


Color of Hope

by Deadmockingbirds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O verse, Adult Baby!Dean, Age Play, All sexual tags refer to Cas and Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Butt Plugs, Cas and Sam Sex, Daddy!Sam, Diapers, Dominating Sex, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Humiliation, Infantilism, Love, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Orgasm Denial, Pacifier - Freeform, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Rough Sex, Sastiel sex, Spanking, Teary eyed Dean, Temper Tantrums, authoritative Cas, bottles, consensual-non-consent, crawling, cuteness, hint to past sexual abuse, hunter!dean, mentions of abuse, non-sexual infantialism, sexual spanking, soother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadmockingbirds/pseuds/Deadmockingbirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being raised by John Winchester wasn't easy in the first place; only way to make it worse? Present as omega. After John's death, Dean is finally free, physically; the only thing still holding him prisoner is his mind. As next Alpha in the Winchester line, Dean's papers go to Sam. Sam always loved Dean; always wished he could save Dean. But after years of abuse, there's only one thing Sam can do to help Dean: Whatever it takes not to let Dean's fractured soul slice him to pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we know by now how it works with ol' Mock: Read at your own risk. I write outrageous stuff. I like it. If you like, please enjoy!
> 
> I wrote this awhile ago and thought, 'hey! Finally that one shot I'd been working so hard to do.' Then it became two chapters = One Shot Fail.
> 
> If it's liked, I'm willing to write this as a series of one shots. Maybe things Sam alludes to you're curious about? Huh? 
> 
> This one is straight up ageplay though, so uh yeah. The mildly dub-con is ONLY b/c I thought since Dean has a history of abuse, ppl may not believe he _wants_ this off my word alone. But it's really not, non-con in the truest sense. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. This one breaks my heart.

"You know you can't hunt with that, Dean. You lost it last time remember? You were pissed all night."

He knows I'm right, but he still pouts wanting his soother.

I know he's excited about this hunt though. He still likes hunting, which I still haven't quite figured out. The whole situation is super fucked up. I almost don't even know where to begin telling you this story, but if you follow along, I'm sure you're bright enough to pick up all the bits on the way. Hell, I'm not even sure how to explain some of it, sometimes I just have to go with it and do what I think is best for him.

Two things you should know: Dean doesn't talk much anymore (though I'm working on it and it's getting better) and I'm the only one he trusts. Me. Sam.

He looks at me and cheekily pops his thumb in his mouth. I'm happy to see him be cheeky. It's kinda new and not often. That's Dad's fault. The whole thing with Dean is Dad's fault. I smile at him. "That's okay sweet boy. Can't lose those, well not easily anyway."

I'm driving. I drive the Impala now almost permanently.

I reach over and rustle his hair; he let's me. Only I'm allowed to touch him and sometimes Cas, or he throws a huge fit. It's a privilege I don't take lightly.

"Do you need to be changed?"

He shakes his head. "Are you sure? It's going to be a long night."

He nods, still sucking on his thumb. He's like this now, but as soon as we get out of the car, a switch will flip and he becomes robo-hunter. Dad trained him and Dean developed this sort of dual personality. He was never baby Dean around Dad of course, just quiet and subdued Dean or he got beat to a pulp. Dad felt it was his right to treat Dean as he pleased. Dean is Omega, thankfully I had the good fortune of being born Alpha like our father, which has afforded us the freedoms we have now. Not that I think there's anything wrong with being omega, it's just…a lot easier to be alpha in this world.

When I was younger, there wasn't much I could do except tend to Dean, sneak him food, make him feel better, but when our dad died (something I'm not sorry for) Dean's papers were transferred to me. For all intents and purposes, he's mine now, but I don't think of him like that. I don't agree with the treatment of omegas and while there's nothing I can do about it as a whole, I can make sure one little omega is taken care of. It's the only reason I stayed in the first place. I couldn't leave Dean, since I couldn't take him from Dad while he was with Dad no matter how much I wanted to.

I pull the Impala off the highway and park. Dean looks so sweet, his eyes innocent as he looks around scared. "Okay Dean. It's time to get the ghosts."

"K, Daddy." His innocence slips away with his thumb from his mouth, fading to the background, but not gone, and every bit of darkness he's ever seen, ever felt is here with him now.

We're ready to gank the ghost.

BB

As I predicted, it was a long one, but Dean as always, pulled through. Better than pulled through and why wouldn't he? Dad trains good soldiers; I'll give him that.

I can see when it happens. I know it well. It's not that baby Dean ever left; he doesn't blank out; he knows he's hunting; like I said, it's hard to explain, but I think baby Dean thinks he's playing a game. It's one he likes. But like all little boys, he knows when it's time for the game to be over. When he can let Daddy take care of him.

Once the match is falling down into the grave, I can hear the sniffles; he's tired, it's well past his bedtime. He tugs on my jacket and points to his mouth. He wants his soother. "It's in the car sweetheart. We're all done now. Where's your hand?"

He scowls at me and shakes his head. Not only is he tired, but he's cranky. If I didn't have to take him on these hunts, I wouldn't, but they're every bit a part of his personality as is baby Dean. He becomes, restless; that's when I know he's due for a hunt.

"Dean," I say firmly. "You know you have to hold Daddy's hand."

That's usually enough to get him to obey me, his eyes go wide, scared I'm going to beat him even though I never have and never would and he grabs my hand. "Good boy."

Soon as we get to the car and I've got him all buckled in, I pop his soother into his mouth for him; he smiles around it by way of thanks. I'm trying to get him to remember to say thank-you, but it's not going so well. He'll do if I ask him to. "Can you say thank-you, baby boy?"

"Tank-you, Daddy," he says without removing the soother. He's so fucking sweet. I wish I could bring our father back from the dead, so I could kill him again. How could he ever hurt him?

"You're welcome, peaches." He laughs when I say that, which is why I say that. I once told him he was sweet like peaches and he giggled longer than I'd ever heard him giggle. "Cas is waiting for us, so you can fall asleep if you like."

I can carry him, but it's awkward and I'd wake him, then he'd be up all night. Cas can carry him without disturbing him. Dean shakes his head. "Oh, you're not going to go to sleep are you?"

He shakes his head giving me mischievous eyes. He's playing with me; it warms my heart to see it—it's taken us a long time to get here. "Okay. Well I'd like to see you try not to fall asleep."

I call Cas and tell him to meet us at a motel about seventy-five miles from where Dean and I are now. Dean's out like I predicted; still sucking unconsciously on his soother, by the time we arrive. Cas is already there and stays with him while I check us in. Then we carry him in and lay him on the bed so I can change him.

We'll go back to Bobby's old place in the morning. He left it to us and it's where we stay most of the time now. We don't hunt as much as we used to. Just enough to keep Dean, sane.

I put a new diaper on him and a pair of cotton pajama pants with a white t-shirt then tuck him into bed. Cas, thinking ahead, brought beer, milk and juice. I've got some snacks for Dean and me in Dean's diaper bag. We crack open a beer and keep quiet so we don't wake the baby.

Cas takes my hand. "How was he tonight?"

I smile. "Amazing."

"And you?"

"I'm good, Cas." And I am. It was hard, but we've found a good place. I don't know if he'll ever be anything but this ever again and I don't care. I accept it. I'll take care of him forever if I have to.

"Bet I can make you feel better." He takes the beer from me and pulls me up by the hand he's holding and lays a solid kiss on my lips. I respond with my tongue and quickly our clothes are gone, but we cover ourselves with the blankets in the bed next to Dean. When Cas is finally in me, I'm revived. I don't know what I'd do without Cas.

We finish quietly; Dean doesn't stir until much later, when we're both cleaned and dressed. "Daddy?" he whines. Dean has lots of nightmares.

I ask Cas to make a bottle for him and I spoon in behind him, replacing the soother that's fallen on the bed. "Shh, Daddy's here, baby." I rub his back and coo at him, 'till Cas hands me the bottle with warm milk. I switch his soother for the nipple of the bottle. Dean sucks slowly, his sleepy eyes looking around the room.

"Scared," he says.

"I know. Was a scary dream wasn't it?"

Dean nods and continues sucking. Cas stays out of sight. Dean has gotten fairly comfortable with Cas, but during his nightmares, it's better if he can just focus on me, or I'll never get him back to sleep. I'll be lucky if I do as it is.

I get lucky and he does fall asleep. Cas says goodbye saying he'll go make sure the house is ready for us when we return. We've been on the road for a couple weeks, filling Dean's need for hunting, but it's time to go home for as long as we can. I stay with Dean and hold him tight and hum him a lullaby.


	2. Home

Dean shows me his sticky hands. "I know. Syrup is sticky, but we'll get you all cleaned up, okay?"

Dean nods. I pull out a warm cloth and wipe my brother off. We don't sit him in a highchair, he's been fine just in a chair at the kitchen table and he's a very good boy, most of the time. But sometimes I think he'd like one. I don't know why I think that; it's the oddest thing.

"Okay, go play," I tell him when he's clean. He retrieves his soother from beside his plate and gets up excitedly and runs to his toys, but on the way, he does a spectacular face plant. Baby Dean is surprisingly clumsy while Hunter Dean is incredibly agile, even though as I've tried to explain, they are one and the same.

He looks up at me and I try to remain calm, but that was a big fall, he looks hurt. I think he scraped his elbow. "Did Dean get hurt?"

He nods and shows me, silent tears falling. I once saw Hunter Dean have his forearm sliced up pretty good and barely flinch, but baby Dean scrapes his elbow and it's cause for cuddles and kisses.

"Let me see?" I make a show of inspecting it; it's just a little red with some of the skin scraped off but not bleeding. I kiss it all over for him, 'till I hear his sweet laugh. It's his husky Dean laugh, but littler. "You okay now?"

He nods.

"Okay. Be careful."

He heads for his toy box and I hear a loud crash when he dumps it over. "Uh-oh?" he says pointing. I taught him he could do that, but he still has to check he's not going to get in trouble.

"Did you dump all your toys out?"

He smiles so wide he has to keep his soother in with his teeth. He nods.

"You're a silly, boy."

Satisfied I'm not going to beat him, he begins playing while I clean up the kitchen. And when I look up a while later, yep, he's got his pants and socks off. Dean prefers just his diaper and a shirt, or sometimes just a diaper.

Baby Dean doesn't forget being Hunter Dean and Hunter Dean doesn't forget being baby Dean. It took Cas and I a little while to figure this out, but we did and we know it's not really two different personalities as it is character traits on fucking opposite ends of the spectrum. It's more like Hunter Dean holds this other piece of him in and lets it go when he doesn't need to be Hunter Dean anymore. A different headspace.

I like to think he prefers being baby Dean, but sometimes I'm not sure.

I've got some studying to do. I'm taking a couple night classes at an online college. I'm hoping to be able to do something that will make us money. Something from home, so I can be with him. There are omega daycare centers, but not exactly for this kind of thing. Omegas are thought of as fragile creatures, which is bizarre to me when I think of my brother when he hunts. He's anything, but fragile.

I pull out my books and set them up on the table not far from where Dean is playing. He manages to get himself into predicaments, as well behaved as he is, so I've got to watch him. It's one of many things that got him into trouble with our dad. Though just presenting as omega at ten was enough.

It's not long 'till I have a certain someone tugging at my pant leg from the floor. "Hey Dean, I think we have ants. Something's tugging at my, oh it's you!"

He smiles shyly. "What's up baby, boy? You need a diaper change?" He doesn't like to be in messy diapers for long.

He shakes his head. "You want Daddy to play with you," I realize.

He nods. I'm never going to get my homework done; it's hard for me to resist that face. "Okay. I'll play for a little."

I help him build things out of Lego, 'till I notice him start to get sleepy. Dean has a few little twitches and they get worse when he's tired. Not to mention the eye rubbing, which is classic little kid tired, hell I rub my eyes when I'm tired, but Dean starts rubbing his head with both hands and his elbows go up in the air. He gets frustrated with his toys and sometimes with me.

Today, he's rubbing his forehead into his hand. He hates having to nap, but his body seems to just give out on him. "Okay Dean, it's time to put toys away."

He shakes his head. "No it isn't?" I say.

He nods. "Well Daddy says it is, so start cleaning up mister."

He gives me a huge pout, because he knows it's my Achilles heel. I do my best to ignore it and start cleaning up, hoping he'll join in. "Guess who's coming over after naptime?"

His eyes go wide and he puts his palm out facing upward in an, 'I don't know' fashion.

I smile to myself as I continue to pick up toys. "Cas."

He nods slow, looking interested. He does like Cas, very much. For Dean to allow anyone to touch him at all, even if it's not all the time is the hugest deal ever. He points at his toys, but not because I'm picking them up, I've gotten pretty good at reading what Dean's saying even when he doesn't use words. "Will Cas play with you?"

Dean nods.

"Of course. In fact, that's exactly what he said. Sam, I'd like to come over there and play cars with Dean," I say trying to imitate Cas.

Dean hugs himself with both arms smiling. He shakes his head. "You're not going to play cars with Cas?"

"B- _blocks_ , Daddy."

Cas taught him a smashing game where they build towers with the intention of knocking them down. He freaking loves that game. "I'm sure Cas can't wait to play blocks with you, but you don't want to be tired when he's here do you?"

Dean shakes his head.

"Okay. Then help Daddy clean up and we're going to have naptime."

He starts helping me and I tell him what I good helper he is. He follows me to the kitchen, crawling after me, while I get him a bottle, but when I'm about to take him upstairs, I reach down to pick him up.

Dean being an omega's kept him smaller. He's still a solid one-thirty, but it's just not in the cards for him genetically to be big like me. Even at his smaller size, it's still not exactly easy to cart him around, but he helps me by wrapping his legs around me and holds himself up. He likes to be carried.

I tell him all about lunchtime and Cas being here soon after and reiterate that they'll play with blocks as I take him upstairs. It's good for Dean to have things to look forward to, small as they might be to you and me; they're big to him.

I lay him down on his bed and he gets that worried look on his face like always. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Daddy will stay with you 'till you're asleep," I remind him. "And I'll be close by to get the bad guys."

He yawns as I tuck his comforter around him, pulls his soother out and reaches for his bottle. With his soother looped around his finger, he holds the bottle with both hands and suckles, pausing every few minutes to point at something, which is a question of some kind.

He'll point at my hair. "Yes, it's getting long."

Then we hear a bird outside his window. "Yep. That's a little birdie. You want to go see'im later?"

He nods. We play the question game for a little while longer, 'till he can't keep his eyes open. When he's finally asleep, I take his bottle and replace it with his soother, kiss his forehead and slowly slip off the bed.

I keep a monitor inside Dean's room. Another little leftover from our dad; Dean won't leave a space he's been put in without permission. He finally feels comfortable traversing between the living room and the kitchen to look for me, but that's about it. I gotta say, I'm somewhat grateful for that. He's okay going upstairs, but not so good going down. He had a spectacular fall one day and I'd rather go get him, so I can watch him go down stairs rather than have him come looking for me. I usually hear when he wakes up.

I get some homework finished while he naps and the plan is for Cas to keep him occupied, so I can get even more homework finished—we'll see how that plan goes. He wants Daddy a lot.

Speaking of that, of 'Daddy,' you should know he gave me that name. He used to call me Sammy, when we were younger, but after our dad died a year and a half ago, he went real quiet and didn't call me anything. Dean's always been quiet. He's never said too much, trying his best not to garner attention from Dad, but he did call me Sammy and he used to talk more than he does now. Dad stopped allowing Dean to call him Dad after Dad found out he was omega. He was to refer to Dad as 'sir,' only.

It took him a couple of months to realize Dad was never coming back. In that time, I had already begun looking after him. He wouldn't move from the last spot Dad left him and it was real hard to get him to eat, but I somehow managed for a while on my own.

That's the main reason I started with the diapers and bottles—it was just easier. But I could tell Dean enjoyed the love and care I gave him. It was easy to coo at him in an infantile manner with him in diapers and drinking from bottles and once every so often, I'd get a smile from him, so I just kept it up.

I met Cas on a hunt I did on my own, a while after Dad's death. I wasn't aware of Dean's need to hunt back then and he pretty much stayed put, so I'd leave him on his own for very short stints, or in the car if it was longer.

There was something between Cas and me right away. Before I knew it I was introducing him to Dean, who as you can imagine was terrified at first. Mostly that I would leave him for Cas, but also of this new 'person.'

Then one day he just told Cas I was 'Daddy.' _His_ daddy.

After months without one word, he pointed to me and said, 'my daddy,' just like that. Like he was staking a claim. He was basically telling Cas, 'he's the guy who takes care of me,' so 'please don't take him from me.'

It's also a deep sign of affection. I think Dean always wanted a 'Daddy.' Even before we knew Dean was an omega, Dad was never really a Dad.

Dean calling me 'Daddy' was also the first time he did something 'disobedient.' I tried to get him to call me Sammy, or Sam, or brother. I didn't mind him calling me Daddy, but I was worried I'd done something to make him misunderstand our situation. Nobody cares what you do with your omega, sadly, but I still didn't want it to come across like I was making him do all this stuff—to me or anyone else.

Dean eventually got it through my thick skull that I'm his daddy because he said so. That's what he wants, this is what he wants and _I'm enjoying myself quite a bit thank-you, Daddy_. I'm sure some of it, is because he feels more worthy of love like this. Not that he needs to have a reason for me to love him, I love him for existing, but he feels like that. At least he did.

Now, I think there's less of that, and more of just him adoring the _kind_ of attention he gets like this and the safety he feels. At the same time, I don't feel like he's pretending. I feel like this is exactly where his mind is at and like he wants to live during a stage in his life that was less traumatic for him.

Even when he's 'Hunter Dean,' there's still an element of youth underlying all of it. He really would wear his pacifier hunting if I let him and he's suckered me into it few times. He calls me Daddy no matter which spectrum he's in. I'd say Hunter Dean is just a little older version of baby Dean, but like a kid who's lost his innocence; one who knows there are monsters under the bed.

This is why I have rules for him. They make him feel safe and there are some aspects of 'adulthood,' he really doesn't 'get.' The last part is from the abuse—I'm sure of it. That's the part the angers me. I don't mind of course, in that I don't mind having him as he is; I mind that it happened at all—I hope Dad is rotting in hell.

So I'm his brother, his protector, his caretaker, his everything: Daddy.

"Dah-deeee…" I hear the sleepy voice call some time later. I put my pen down and head up. He's sitting up looking around with sleepy eyes; I notice right away he's missing his soother. He knows too and is pointing at his mouth.

"Did you lose your soother, baby?"

He nods and puts his palm out face up. "I don't know where it is. Let's look for it."

I make a game of it saying, "where's Dean's soother?" in a fairly infantile voice. He likes that and 'helps' me look for it in the sheets. When I find it I make a big show of "look what I found!"

He smiles huge and reaches for it taking it from me and clambering it into his mouth. Then he reaches for me. "Oh. You want Daddy to carry you? You're a pretty big boy to carry."

The palm of his hand tousles the hair on top of his head shyly and his pretty green eyes peer up at me. I'm such a fucking sucker for them. "Okay, Daddy'll carry you."

I lift him, thinking I've got to keep working out, so I can keep lifting him like this. Thankfully he's smaller, while I'm big. Even for an alpha, I'm on the larger side. But while Dean is small, he's a decent height for an omega at about five, eight. Makes things a bit awkward, but I make it work. It was harder in the beginning, but been training much as I can. We've got some weights here I was able find off craigslist for free. The guy was just getting rid of them.

He plays with my hair, twisting it around his finger as I cart him down the stairs, still holding his yellow blanket I got for him a couple months ago. Yeah I'm a sappy fucker, but yellow is the color of hope; and he loves it. I set him down on the couch, so he can wake up a bit. "Daddy's going to get you some juice, all right?"

He nods and snuggles his blanket. Once I've got some juice in a bottle, I head back to the living room and set a blanket up on the floor, so I can change his diaper. He's still not wearing any pants. I set the juice on the coffee table and he eyes it carefully, while I make quick work of his wet diaper. "You can have that when you're sitting up again. Daddy doesn't want you to choke."

Adult diapers are different than baby ones. They've got extra padding you have to put in them. The diaper covers aren't necessary, but Dean likes them because they've usually got fun things on them. "How about some pants?"

He shakes his head. "But Cas is going to be here. You want him to see you walking around half naked?" It's not like Cas hasn't seen it before, but I just like to make sure.

He nods.

"You're silly. Okay, for a little bit, but you're putting pants on for dinner." I feel like I should 'teach' him things like that…like social etiquette things, like you'd teach a young person. Dinner, nor any meal for that matter, was a formal thing when Dad was around. I've been developing some 'new' family things just for us.

He scrunches his nose, but I know he'll do it when the time comes. I'd actually like to see baby Dean misbehave more often. It would show me he's healing.

I'm making lunch when Cas shows up. He uses the front door, so he doesn't scare Dean. Dean knows he's an angel, but it's a bit frightening for the baby when he just appears out of nowhere.

He looks up at me. "You want to answer the door for Daddy?"

He shakes his head. "No? You need me to do it?"

He nods and makes reachy hands for me. He's awfully clingy today. "Okay. C'mere, my love." I pick him up and he curls into me. "You know it's Cas. Remember the blocks game?"

"Blanket."

Poor Cas has to wait at the door while I first get Dean's blanket, then his juice he left on the couch, then his second soother. All while holding him of course. Thankfully, Cas can probably hear everything and will wait as long as we need him to.

I finally open the door and smile wide at Cas. It feels so good when I see him. I wish he could be with us all the time, but he's an important angel doing important angel things. "Hello Sam. I thought Dean was going to be here?"

Dean's buried his head into his blanket and he's quite heavy by this point, but his giggle at what Cas says makes me push through the exhaustion at carrying him around the past ten minutes. "Wait a minute. I think I hear him."

Carefully and without touching him, Cas peels down a corner of the blanket to unveil his eyes. "There you are! I thought I was going to have to play blocks by myself," Cas says in his rough, gravely voice.

Dean comes out from his hiding place to make sure that's okay with me, even though we talked about it earlier. "Blocks?"

"I think you'd better go get the blocks before Cas does."

Satisfied, he finally lets me put him down, but he flops down on his hands and knees to crawl over to his blocks, his blanket trailing behind him—I have his bottle of juice and second soother. Sometimes he walks and sometimes he crawls. Cas gives me a quick, quick kiss and gets down on his hands and knees with Dean—just one of the eight thousand reasons I love him. He's still in his trench coat, but he doesn't care and he follows after Dean with wild abandon.

I watch them play the blocks smashing game, while I finish making his lunch. Dean laughs a lot and it makes me happy. Cas looks up at me from time to time. He worries about me saying there's no one to look after me.

"Is anybody hungry?" I call out. Dean's usually hungry, but he might be distracted today.

Dean shakes his head.

"No? Does Daddy have to eat all by his lonesome?"

"B- _blocks_ Daddy," he tells me in case I hadn't noticed he was just doing something important.

"You know, _Daddy_ ," Cas says for Dean's benefit. "I think I'm hungry. What'cha got?"

Dean's interested now. "It's grill cheese and homemade chicken noodle."

"Okay. I'll have some of that." Cas begins to get up, but stops when Dean whines beside him. "Oh? You want to come now?"

Dean nods and puts his arms up in the air, signaling it's okay for Cas to pick him up. "Alley, oop!" Cas sets Dean on his hip, it's so much easier for the angel to do it.

Dean's diaper crinkles as he lets Cas sit him at the table and looks excited to eat, but he gives a last look toward the blocks that are strewn everywhere. "You can play again later, sweetheart."

Cas doesn't need to eat, but I serve him some, so he can eat with Dean. I don't know if Dean doesn't know Cas doesn't really eat, or if he does know and thinks this is yet another game his only friend in the world plays with him.

Not that we don't have other friends, but Cas is the only other person Dean's really let in. I'd say he's beginning to trust Cas, even if it's not a fully developed trust just yet. I know it will be.

Later, much later; after putting pants on and dinner and more games with Cas, I can see my little boy is getting grouchy and it's the time of night where no one, but Daddy will do. It's okay though. I got all my readings done and two assignments.

"Dean, is it nice to throw blocks at your friend Cas?" My voice is firm and steady, but not cross; it still makes him freeze.

He sniffles, then starts to cry saying some words around his soother that are unintelligible. "Aw, it's bedtime for little boys isn't it?"

"Noooo…" he cries. He probably feels bad for throwing the block at Cas, but as much as he hates being scolded, it makes him feel safe.

"C'mere critter." I reach to pick him up.

I get a high-pitched, " _noooo!_ "

I look at Cas surprised, not sure what to do. This is new. He usually doesn't freak like this, not after being scolded. Next I know, Dean is having a full-fledged temper tantrum, fists smashing on the ground and everything.

And I'm freaking happy to see it. I smile at Cas over the screaming—he knows.

We move things out of the way, so he doesn't hurt himself on anything. He's screaming, and crying, face pink and turning red, kicking blocks near his feet. I get down really close. "When you're all finished having your temper tantrum, Daddy's here."

"N _oooo_!" He squeals again. I have to bite my lip so I don't laugh.

Eventually, after ten long minutes, he exhausts himself and cries into the floor. "Daddy…Dah-ah-dee."

"Aw. My poor boy. It's tough, isn't it?" I say lifting him. Cas silently swoops in with his yellow blanket and fallen soother. I carry him upstairs, Cas taking care of making his bottle, while I sit him on the counter to brush his teeth.

"You gonna tell me what that was all about?"

Normally, I get a head shake, or some other kind of silent message. I'm shocked to hell when he answers. "Not bedtime."

I think about that, about how to respond as I present him with the toothbrush and toothpaste, he opens his mouth so I can brush.

I am glad he had that outburst. He needed it, and I want him to know it's okay he gets his feelings out, even if he has to shout them sometimes. On the other hand, Dean does better with rules. Whether that's because of Dad, his omega biology, or it's just the way Dean is, I don't know, but I know he needs firm boundaries.

"I think bedtime is when Daddy says it is."

He nods, mouth full of toothpaste, those serious green eyes that are probably waiting for retribution considering his outburst.

"But if Dean wants to weasel a few more minutes out of Daddy, he should know all he has to do is ask. I'm a sucker for the Dean eyes."

He smiles a watery smile, both hands are in his hair, nervously twisting it, when I wipe the toothpaste away from the corners of his mouth. I pick him up again and bring him to his bedroom, I change his diaper; slip him into pajamas and then we sit in the large rocking chair Cas made for us. "How about a story?"

He's so quiet again, unsure after what he's just done. I hate that. Maybe I said the wrong thing? I'm never sure. I pick one of his favorite stories; the _I Love you Forever Robert Munch_ book. He likes when I sing him the song.

Dean's calm by the time Cas shows up with his bottle, but not asleep. Dean points at him and looks at me, probably remembering he threw a block at his friend. "Do you want to say sorry?"

He pulls his soother out. "Sorry."

Cas crouches down to kiss his crown and Dean lets him. "You're forgiven my special little one. You were just tired." And like he's done in the past, he touches his fingers to Dean's head, hoping he can erase the nightmares that come every night, hell hoping he can use his grace to heal _something_ inside Dean, but it never works. His soul is too fractured.

It does help Dean go to sleep a little easier. And that's all we can do for Dean. Just things to make his life a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else's heart break?


	3. Love Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not supposed to update, so quickly, but I was home and thinking of these guys. So surprise! 
> 
> This story is non-linear and will jump back and forth in time. I will give approximations of when each event happened, but not exact dates.

Sometime after the events of last chapter.

"Toys?" he says pointing with a closed fist.

"Uh-huh. That's right. Remember Daddy said if you were a good boy at the mall, we'd go get toys?"

He nods, sorta holding his breath a bit. Like, I might be about to tell him I'm taking away his reward; that he wasn't a good boy. "Well you were a very good boy, so let's go find whatever toys Dean wants."

I hold my hand out, he takes it and we head toward the toy store.

It's not unusual for me to have a grown man walking beside me, holding my hand; soother in his mouth. Not that all alphas do this with their omegas—alphas do all different things with their omegas—but apparently, I'm allowed to do whatever I want with 'my' omega. So no one looks at us strangely.

People have some really fucked up views on omegas. Even the well-meaning people starting up PETA type groups for Omegas. Their standpoint is, we need to protect and shelter all omegas. Supposedly the weakest sex.

The only people that might look at us with any disgust, are the people like me, who know omega doesn't mean less of a person. They might think I'm abusing Dean, but they're not likely to say it to my face. I wish there were more people with the same views as me, but the fact that there isn't is what makes Dean's situation a little easier for us. At least now.

I hate that I 'own' him, but if I didn't, it would be bad for Dean. Being an unowned omega is sometimes just as bad as being an owned omega.

Dean doesn't like big spaces like these. But Cas is away and I can't leave Dean alone anymore. We needed some stuff and I'm trying to get Dean acclimated to being in public spaces. I went with good old-fashioned bribery.

I can tell he wants to run, but he's very good and keeps pace with me. I'd let him run if I didn't think he would fall, or accidently run into someone. People don't take kindly to 'out of control' omegas.

Dean is in awe of all the toys. The first time we were here, he wouldn't openly look at the toys. When he thought I wasn't looking, he'd peek at something then quickly go back to staring at his feet, terrified I'd beat him, or worse if he showed interest no matter what I did to coax him. In the end I had to pick. The last time we were here, he felt comfortable to pick on his own for the first time, with very little coaching and prompting from me. He chose fairly babyish toys. This time he doesn't seem to know where to go and looks to me for help and I can't refuse—at least he feels comfortable enough to ask. He puts his hands, palm upward in an 'I don't know' fashion. "Is there too many things to choose from, baby boy?"

He pulls his soother out. "T-too many, Daddy," he says super quietly. I have to hold back my excitement. He usually doesn't say so many words and _never_ in front of this many people.

"You want Daddy to help you?"

He nods as he twists his hand in his hair and replaces his soother. He looks so lost and vulnerable, I just want to scoop him up and squeeze him.

"Well you already have blocks," I say knowing that will make him think of Cas and smile. It does. "You've got cars. But you know what you don't have?"

He shakes his head, captivated by what I'm saying. "A train. How about we find a train for you? We can go home and build it after your nap. What do you say?"

He nods in awe at the prospect of getting a train. I'd been able to get at a job at the bar in town. Cas has been helping me big time by looking after Dean.

Diapers are expensive and food and electricity and living. It's a little harder to pull credit card scams when you stay in one place, so I've needed real money. I have been able to sell parts from the cars in Bobby's yard on craigslist, and I've somehow managed to garner sympathy from a few of the local farmers in the surrounding area. They've somehow heard my story and, thankfully being more the types to find an omega something vulnerable to take care of, they're always stopping by with fruits, vegetables, meats and even bones for making soup broth—I make a lot of soup. I still have to buy a lot of items though.

Cas helps too. He shows up with diapers sometimes. I don't ask where he gets them.

I take Dean through the isles and watch his eyes dart here and there, interested, clearly wanting to engage with the other items in the store, but he doesn't ask. I said trains; he won't dare ask for something else. I wish he would. I only helped him in the first place because I know he'd eventually freak with overwhelm. "Is there anything else you see you like better than trains?"

He looks scared, like he was caught doing something bad, and shakes his head. That's why sometimes I don't bother asking, I hate that look of fear. "It's okay if you do. Daddy was just making a suggestion, it doesn't have to be a train."

Crap. Now he's all unsure. He was so happy a second ago. I want to make sure he knows I'm not going to get pissed at him for being like a regular little boy; perusing all the toys, telling me all his wants; picking them up; checking them out.

Better get him thinking about the trains again. "But trains are nice. Can Daddy show you?"

He nods, grateful he doesn't have to come up with a response to my previous question.

The first train I show him is red. "Look Dean, this one is red like dragons. We can build this mountain, like the picture and the train goes through the mountain."

He smiles and reaches for it, but I don't intend to make it _too_ easy. Now he's focused on a specific toy, I'm going to see if I can at least get him to choose a color. "But wait. This one is green like Dean's eyes and it goes through a town where there are houses and little people." I say that as a little test. I'm trying to help Dean work on his self-esteem in the best way I know how. If I could afford a shrink for him, I would; maybe someday. I got through my first year of online college and am already looking into what I can start for a home business online.

But back to Dean's eyes, I know he's starting to feel okay with what I call 'Dean's things.' I make sure to list them all at some point through out the day. Relating the train to Dean, I wonder if he'll like the idea enough to choose something like himself.

I see he's actually considering it, even if it's only because he know how much Daddy loves everything about Dean. Least I hope he knows. I tell him several times a day. He gives a small shake. "Dray…dragins," he says.

I smile wide. "Oh, you like that's red like dragons, do you?" Maybe I shouldn't have made the choice so difficult. Dragons are pretty cool.

"Wait. Daddy's still got one more. This one's a blue train. There's a different kind of mountain with a waterfall and it passes by a farm with animals and a little duck pond. Do you know whose eyes are blue?"

Dean's whole face cracks with a smile. He nods. "C-Cassy."

"That's right baby boy. Cassy."

Dean adores Cas. He's really latched onto him in these past months, with Cas looking after him. Of course it was hard at first, even if he's always liked Cas, but he's coming to trust Cas as much as he does me. He recently gave Cas the nickname. Cas was floored.

He starts to reach for the blue train, but pauses. "Daddy?" he says pointing to the train.

"Are there trains like Daddy? 'fraid not. Just these three."

He nods and points to the blue train. The Cas train. "Okay, but can you use your nice manners?"

Of course he's getting the train whether he uses his manners or not, but I'm forever trying to teach him and get him to do things. "Please, Daddy?"

"Good boy. Thank-you," I say ruffling his hair. Cas train it is.

When we get home, I feel bad I have to make him wait, but he's droopy and sleepy. He'll enjoy his new train a lot more once he's rested. "Train?"

"Yep. Right after your nap, we'll play with the train."

He doesn't argue, probably worried I'll take away his train. Instead he climbs up the stairs, quickly, so he can have his nap faster and play with the train. "Where's the fire, sweetheart? Don't you want a bottle?"

He freezes on the steps and turns around.

"Tell you what, I know you're okay to go up the stairs, why don't you do that and I'll get you a bottle?" I don't normally have him go up by himself, but today seems like a day for trying new things.

He nods.

"Can you also take your pants off?"

"Uh-huh." He looks worried, but I can see he so _wants_ to be brave. "Daddy? You comin'?"

"Daddy's coming up very quick after Dean. Promise."

He's still unsure, but that seems to satisfy him. He half crawls, half walks up the stairs. I'm quick with his bottle, not warming it up. I feel bad taking advantage of the fact he won't complain, but I'd rather get up to him quickly. If this works out, I'll take a little more time the next time.

When I make it upstairs, he's sitting on the bed in just his diaper, having decided to take his shirt off too. He looks like he's about to cry. "Dean? What's the matter, baby? You scared? Daddy's here now."

He bites his lip, and doesn't know what to do with his hands moving between hugging himself and twisting fingers into the front of his hair.

I set the bottle down and reach to pick my baby up. "C'mere, sweetheart. Daddy has to change your diaper."

I hug him for a minute, then lay him back down on his bed so he's laying with his lower legs off the bed. He wipes his eyes as he listens to me coo at him and change his diaper. "You did so good coming up here by yourself. Daddy was hardly anytime at all and Dean was so brave."

He doesn't say anything, but I can tell there's something on his mind.

"Legs up for me, please, baby boy." He picks his legs up and holds them around the outer edge of his feets. I take a wipe and clean him off carefully and lovingly. These parts of him haven't been treated so nicely in the past.

Because Dean is omega, he can carry a baby, so he has three 'parts' I have to clean. Omega's still use their penis for urination, rather than their canal. It's a small penis, but it still feels pleasure, not great _for_ fucking, but for everything else.

Omegas are lucky. They can derive pleasure from all of their parts: Anus, canal, and dick.

It is said that being an omega was once revered, apparently, they used to sprout large, white wings. I often wonder what Dean would have looked like with wings. "Okay, hips up, peaches."

He giggles and lifts his hips; I'm glad to have his smile back. I slide a new diaper underneath him and pull the front up to cover his parts; I tape it firmly in place. "All done. How about a t-shirt?"

He shakes his head. "No? Okay." I pull back the covers and he climbs inside. "Here's your bottle."

He pulls out his soother and exchanges it for the bottle. I prop pillows up for him, so he can partially lie down and I lie beside him twisting my fingers through his hair and singing him, 'you are my sunshine.' In the middle of the song, he pulls the bottle out. "Daddy?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Train?"

I smile. I can't wait to play trains with him. "Yep. We bought Dean his own train today. We get to play with it when you wake up. So go to sleep okay?"

He nods, but I can tell he's too excited to sleep. He drinks a bit more then pulls his bottle away to ask, "mine?"

He's never sure what's his. He's still not used to being given things. Dad used to frequently remind him that even the clothes on his back weren't his and he could take them and make Dean walk around naked if he wanted.

Dean doesn't mind just a diaper in the house, likes it actually, but he wouldn't want that in front of other people.

"The train is for Dean."

He drinks a little more, and the air in the bottle makes a bubble sound as he pulls off again. "Thank-you, Daddy."

I smile and kiss his forehead.

~CH~

Dean can hardly wait to get downstairs, but I have to be a mean Daddy and make him wait through another diaper change. He's lost his soother again, so he's sucking his thumb as I try to hurry, not bothering to look for it.

He scrunches his nose at me when I slip a t-shirt on him. "You can't be naked all day. love."

He nods.

"You can?"

Another nod.

"Tell you what. Daddy will let you wear one of your super special onsies instead. Is that better?"

He nods and bites his lip. Cas found these great adult onesies online, but they're freaking expensive. Cas bought a few, I don't really know how (I don't ask him about money) and so did I, but we don't have very many yet. Of course Dean _loves_ them.

I pull out the one with the teddy bears.

When he's all dressed, I let Dean go ahead of me, but warn him to be careful going down the stairs. He gets to the bottom of the stairs and spies who's sitting on the couch waiting for him. "C-Cassy!" he says then looks at me. "Cassy, Daddy. Cassy!"

That's his biggest reaction yet.

"There he is. I've been waiting," Cas says just as excited. Dean runs to Cas and I cringe hoping he doesn't fall. He makes it and hugs Cas.

Cas is officially the latest member of Dean's circle that can 'touch' him without him freaking. He even lets Cas change his diapers; it's a very big deal.

He points at Cas's eyes and looks at me. "Train?"

Oh yeah. I forgot to tell Cas when he got here. He pretty much came in the door and jumped me.

I retrieve the bag with the train and show Cas. "It's blue like Cas's eyes isn't it, Dean?"

Dean acts all shy, twining one leg around the other, putting his thumb back in his mouth and nodding.

"Well? What we waiting for? Let's build the Cas train."

The three of us work on putting the tracks together and we construct the waterfall mountain, then set up all the people, the farm and the animals. We play with Dean's little, blue, wooden train until I have to get up to make dinner. And when it's time to eat, Dean doesn't want to. No surprise there.

"C'mon, Dean. We'll eat then we'll play again for a bit, you have to have a bath tonight."

He starts to cry. "No-oo-oo, Dah-ah-deee."

"No to dinner, or no to the bath?"

Probably both, but right now he tells me, "train, Daddy."

"I know you want to play trains. How about the train sits beside you while you eat?"

He's still crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, so I go over to pick my sad little boy up. Most likely, he's still afraid someone's going to take his train away. He latches onto me and I snatch up the train. "Here, you hold that while you eat and Daddy will feed you, okay."

"Okay, Daddy," he says in a whiny, crying voice still sniffling. He's a bit happier, once he realizes he's got his train and no one's dismantling the set, but his breaths are still shaky and jagged. Poor thing.

He sits nicely, with his train in one hand, thumb in the other while I serve him up. "Homemade mac and cheese. One of your faves."

That makes him smile. Cas joins us and doesn't eat this time, but he chats with us as I feed Dean mouthful by mouthful. When Cas sees I'm foregoing my own food, so I can feed Dean, he gets a sly smile on his lips and slides his chair up closer to me. He makes up a spoon of mac and cheese from my bowl. "Here comes the airplane," he says making the spoon fly to my mouth. I'm about to scold him for being and idiot, 'till I hear a husky little giggle.

"Oh. You think that's funny do you? Cas feeding Daddy."

He nods watching hopefully. "Nom!" I say taking a big bite off the spoon and to both our surprise, Dean lets out a loud, deep laugh that still somehow manages to sound 'little.' He's laughing so hard he has to gasp for breath.

"Again," he says.

I give Cas eyes Dean can't see, that say he's going to pay for this later, but I let him continue playing the 'airplane game,' as I pretend to be the monster that eats the airplanes. I've never seen Dean this happy, ever and it's worth every ounce of embarrassment.

As promised, I let Dean play more with the train and Cas while I clean up. Cas offered, but I told him to take a hike. He does so much for us already.

Bath time is still hard sometimes. It's different than a diaper change to Dean because he's naked for an extended period of time. That's the dichotomy of Dean—he loves being in just his diaper, but he does not like baths.

"You want to bring your train up to the bath with you?" There's a good chance he's sleeping with that thing.

"Ha-have to, Daddy?"

"I'm sorry, baby boy. Daddy says you have to have a bath. We're going to be so fast though, promise."

"Trains?"

God I'm a huge sucker. I had intended on it being bedtime after that. "Yes. Trains for a little bit more after bath."

I can see him putting on his brave face which is a couple shades off from his hunter face, but still very similar. I don't know what Dad did to him in the bath; he's never told me, but it was something and it was horrible. I have a few guesses, things I don't even want to imagine, so I just work on distracting him best I can and getting him out fast.

I run the bath. "You can put your train right up here on the counter where you can see it. We can't get it wet, sweetheart."

He doesn't like putting it down, but he does. "Do you want to undress yourself? Or Daddy do it?"

"Daddy."

I unsnap the snaps at this crotch and since I've got no tears yet, I think we're going to be okay—some nights are good and some nights are bad. It usually depends on his mood and we've had a pretty good day.

He is apprehensive and he would rather be anywhere else, but he's going to make it thorough tonight's bath without freaking. His onsie off, I remove his diaper and transfer him into the tub with bubbles. "You want your soother?" He hasn't had one all afternoon. I take one out of the drawer—those I have all over the house. He gladly lets me pop it in his mouth.

I know Dean trusts me. None of his fear comes from thinking I'll do anything to him, or he wouldn’t let me bath him at all—it was really hard in the beginning. It's just discomfort and bad memories that stir up irrational anxiety within him. Irrational, because none of those things are going to happen again and he knows this, but the feeling comes anyway.

He's stiff as I wash his hair, so I play the, 'what I love about Dean' game. "You know what I love about Dean?"

He shakes his head, sucking his soother and turns his big eyes up at me.

"I love Dean's pretty green eyes," I say making sure to highlight what I did at the toy store hoping he'll remember. He smiles shyly. "You know what I love about Dean?"

He waits.

"His sweet Dean smile. You know what I love about Dean?" I go on and on, listing things from head to toe and it calms him and I'm able to get through his bath without tears, or screaming, or worse.

I lift him out of the bath and wrap him tight in his towel, so he can feel safe again and he looks at me with complete adoration. "Daddy," he says around his soother.

"Yeah baby boy?"

"Love you."

Yeah, so there are no tears from Dean during his bath; I end up being the one crying, but I wipe my eyes quickly, so he doesn't see. I don't want him to think he did anything wrong. I wrap him in a big hug and kiss him all over his face 'till he's giggling.


	4. Tantrums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's tantrums increase. That's good, he's getting better, but Sam and Cas know it's time to deal with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. This wasn't supposed to update so soon, but just had this in my head. 
> 
> Remember, this story is non-linear. 
> 
> I promise I will get to prompts and you will get more background etc...I'm just having some fun peeking into this little family's life and this is what I saw this time. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Several (maybe six) months after Dean gets a train

Some good news and some bad news: Dean's getting a little better. That's the good news of course; he's much less afraid to voice his opinions. I'm so grateful for that, but the bad news, it's erupted into constant temper tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants.

And he's really testing boundaries.

It's become challenging for Cas and I, who I've asked to take part in Dean's life in a more active way, since he looks after him a ton now, and practically lives here.

"Dean, please eat your soup, then you're having a nap."

"No. Don't wan' wanna nap, or, or Amato soup, Daddy."

Cas thinks we should discipline him; that Dean wants to know which lines he can cross and which he can't and that he should have a special time out spot and suggested we set up a playpen for that purpose. I've got as far as setting the thing up, but I've never used it. It's especially hard when he sounds so cute and little, saying things like 'Amato soup.'

"You sound awfully cranky to Daddy. I'd prefer for you to eat first, but I'm willing to save your soup for after naptime. How about we have nap first?"

"M'hungry. Wan' grill cheese. Now!" He slams his fist on the table.

"That isn't a choice right now," I say calmly, hoping he'll follow suit. "The choice is you can go for nap now, or after eating your soup."

"No!" he says right before he whacks the soup bowl across the table, sending it spiraling to the floor. When he looks at me, his eyes are pure challenge daring me to do something about it.

"Okay, Dean. That's fine," I say making sure I don't lose my cool. Cas was right. Cas was totally right. I approach him not saying a word. Immediately the water works start, because he's finally scared. Not that he should be, it's just the inevitable part of how this works. He's brave and acts out, but only to a point; then he regrets it and gets scared.

"I'm not going to hit you Dean, but you are having a time out, you need to calm down."

"No!" he squeals as I remove his bib, then lift him. "Please, I be a good boy now Daddy."

I want to sit him back down, give him new soup and forget this whole thing ever happened, but I know it's more important I follow through. "Sorry, buddy. It's not nice to throw your soup, not to mention it's wasteful. It's also not a nice way to talk to Daddy. You're going to think about that for a few minutes."

It's really hard now that he's crying, but I set him down in the playpen. "Daddy… _Daddy_ please."

I don't say anything and walk away intent on letting him cry, but I do get his soother and blanket for him. He reaches up for me. "Please Dah-dee. I b-b-be a, a, a, go-od boyyy…"

Oh god, this is fucking hard. _Stay strong Winchester…stay strong…_

"Daddy's going to work on cleaning up the mess you made, while you work on calming down."

He takes his blanket, crying harder, but I have to put the soother beside him. Jesus, I should have done this with Cas here for the first time, but now that I'm in it, I know it will be worse if I give in. He'll only freak ten times more, knowing his crying and fussing got him out of time out the first time.

When his tantrums were few and far between, it was okay to let him freak, but now that they're frequent, well I think Cas is right, I think Dean does want to know we'll stop him; tell him what's not okay.

I begin cleaning up the soup, which is everywhere, with Dean bawling in the playpen. And even though the whole point is for him to calm himself down, it's his first time, so I decide to try and help him. As I clean I sing, "If you go down to the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise."

He's still crying, loud. I continue. "If you go down to the woods today, you'd better go in disguise." I know he can't resist that line. He likes imagining himself dressed up like a bear and going to see the bears.

He's still sobbing, but it's quieter, so he can hear more of the song. "For every bear that ever there was, will gather there for certain because, today's the day the day the teddy bears have their picnic."

He's stopped really crying and there's just the odd whine every now and again. "Picnic time for teddy bears, the little teddy bears are having a lovely time today. Watch them, catch them unawares, and see them picnic on their hol-li-day."

I continue singing and I hear Dean fish around for his soother. "…at six o'clock their mommies and daddies will take them home to bed, because they're tired little teddy bears."

Singing the song reminds me, I've been meaning to get Dean a teddy bear, I think he'd like one.

I sing the whole song through again as I finish cleaning and get Dean a naptime bottle. He can eat when he wakes up.

When I make my way back to the playpen, Dean's looking at me hopefully, sucking on his soother. His eyes are wet and his hair is mussed, probably because he's been twisting it this whole time. He looks emotionally wrung out and I know this was hard for him because it was hard for me too, but I think it was successful and I think it was good.

"You ready to come out?"

He nods and reaches up; I pluck him out and he curls around me immediately. We head up to his room and I get us settled in his special rocking chair on my lap, so he can drink his bottle. He pulls out his soother, his palm turned up. "Not gonna eat?" he says worried.

"We're going to eat, sweetheart, but I think Dean's tired. We'll eat right after your nap." I opt to talk about his time out after his nap. He's not in a good headspace; I don't think it will do much good.

But there's something he wants to talk about and I'm glad he finally feels safe enough to do so. "S-s-sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay sweet boy. It's all okay now. You just close your eyes and have a nice snooze."

"But, but, you love me?"

"Oh Dean. Daddy loves you so, so much. You never have to worry about that."

~CH~

Dean is happily eating his tomato soup after his nap when Cas shows up. I can tell Dean wants to run to our angel, but he looks at me first, remembering the soup throwing and the resulting time out.

When he woke up, I had a short chat with him about doing as Daddy asks and that throwing things just because he doesn't like what he's asked to do is not okay. I'm not sure if he really understood—it's hard to tell where Dean's head is and how much he comprehends. I mean, I know he understands the words I'm using, but does he get the concept? I'm not sure. Maybe over time. I do know, he felt bad for it, and I didn’t want to drag it out, so I was clear but short. He did respond by nodding with real serious eyes and a, "I behave good, Daddy."

Cas saves me the trouble of having to let Dean down, since I'd rather he kept eating his soup, I worry about him eating—sometimes he doesn't eat all that much. He runs to Dean first and kisses him all over his face, Dean lets him do it giggling. "Stop, C-cassy," he says, but he's not upset.

"What'cha doin' butterfly?"

"E-E-Eatin' my amato soup," his eyes well up with tears. Crap. "I was a bad boy."

God that hurts my heart. "You weren't a bad boy. You just had to have a little time out to calm down, that's all sweetheart."  
Cas looks up at me feeling terrible for both of us. Because he's our guardian angel, he seems to know what to do. "Time outs don't mean you're a bad boy, it means your daddy loves you so, so much. He cares that you grow up kind and considerate."

Dean nods, accepting that. "D-don't like'em."

"I don't imagine you do. Time outs aren't fun, but they do give us time to think."

Dean nods again and eats, making another mess with his soup. His shirt is saved by his bib, but his face is full of 'amato' soup and so is the place mat under the bowl.

Cas and I play games with Dean all afternoon. The time out that was such a big deal, seems to be completely forgotten, and in fact, Dean isn't the quiet boy we'd expect after such an episode. It's like he's pushing us on purpose. Testing. Seeing where I'll stop him.

"Okay, mister, it's almost dinner and time to put pants on."

"Nooo!" he squeals and throws his toy at me. It doesn't hurt, but it hits me in the face.

I'm so happy when Cas steps in this time, I don't think I could punish him twice in one day. "You were already told not to throw things today. I think you need another time out." Cas doesn't bother to warn him, lifting the screeching, crying boy from under his armpits and gently plunking him in his playpen without ceremony.

"No! Daddy! D-ah-ah-dee!" He's crying and I look to Cas biting my lip. I know we have to stick together on this, but it's hard.

I do go get his blanket and soother, but give them to Cas to give to Dean. "As soon as you calm down, you can come out," Cas tells him. Dean gratefully accepts his blanket and soother, but he's still crying and doesn't put the soother in his mouth. I distract myself, by getting dinner on the table; Cas goes to retrieve him pants, walking instead of flying, to give Dean time to calm himself and probably so he'll have something to do to distract himself from Dean's crying. I don't know how long it's been, maybe two minutes (though it feels like an eternity) but I hear a little crying voice ask me, "t-t-eddy bears, Dah-dee?"

I know I can't sing to him every time he's in time out, but it's new, so I indulge him because let's face it, I always indulge the world's sweetest omega.

So I sing to him. It seems to take forever, but eventually his heartbreaking sobs quiet into whines and sniffles. By this point Cas has joined me in putting the meal on the table and singing the teddy bear song with me and after a second round, he goes to retrieve the teary eyed Dean who's got his soother in his mouth, firmly sucking, taking jagged breaths. Cas sits him on the counter. "Do you know what that time out was for?"

Dean nods and pulls out his soother. "Isn't nice to throw things."

"That's right. It's also not nice to throw them at people and it's especially not nice to throw them at Daddy. Are you ready to apologize?"

Another nod. "Daddy," he says reaching for me across the kitchen. I move to him swiftly and hug him to me. "I-I-I'm sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay my love. I forgive you, are you going to behave now?"

Nod.

I push his hair off his face and wipe his tears away; he pops his soother in.

Cas comes over to kiss his forehead. "You're our good, good boy. You did a good job calming down."

I can tell that relieves Dean. "Time for pants."

~CH~

Dean does settle down a bit and his tantrums are less severe; he doesn't earn another time out until two days later.

"Not having a nap, Daddy," he says around his soother.

"You're not?"

"No."

I would like him to assert his independence, so naptime can sometimes be tough for me, because I suppose he doesn't always _need_ a nap; so I'm happy for him to tell me when he thinks he doesn't. I do push the issue when he's a real fusspot, because sometimes he really does need them, like the other day.

"Do you think there's a nicer way to ask Daddy?"

"Please, no nap, Daddy?"

This is the sucky part. He's done everything right and I know he'd really like to make this decision, I want to let him, but today is a bit questionable. It's kind of lose-lose. Either way this will end in tears. I decide I'd rather reward him for asking nicely and possibly deal with a cranky Dean. 

"Okay, sweetheart. No nap today."

He smiles huge around his soother, so that he has to hold it in with his teeth so it won't fall out. I decide we'll bake muffins then maybe we'll go outside for a bit. Dean can help me look for more rare parts to sell on craigslist.

But my muffins plan all goes to hell with my cranky boy.

"I do it Daddy!" he demands.

"I will let you pour the raisins in, baby, I just have to measure them. You don't want to spill them out of the bag, do you?"

"I. Do. It. Daddy!" he says again, like maybe I didn't hear him the first time.

"Dean," I warn. "Behave yourself, or I'm going to think you need a time out."

That makes him more upset. "No. Not havin' a time out. _Mine_." He tears it from my hands, the bag rips and raisins are everywhere.

"Okay. You made your choice, let's go mister."

"No!" he screams as I lift him and carry him to his playpen. This time he fights, flailing his hands and kicking. His nail accidentally catches my face, and I think I'm going to have a pretty nice scratch, but I catch his hands quick after that and hold him in such a way that I immobilize him. I manage to get him into the playpen where he can kick and scream all he likes and believe me he does.

I walk away and let him do his thing, since talking to him would be pretty pointless right now. I take a look in the mirror at the nice long, scratch on my face. I know he didn't mean to do it; he's going to feel horrible.

Eventually, he calms down and his fierceness turns to cries, but he doesn't cry as long as he did the first two times. Instead I hear, "Dean can come out now, Daddy?"

I walk over with his blanket, since he already has his soother, even if it's fallen out by this point. "I thank-you for calming down, but you're going to have a break here while Daddy finishes the muffins. You're to listen when Daddy says something; Daddy has reasons. And you don't fight with Daddy when it's time for a time out. Understand?"

Noticing the scratch on my face and carefully watching the stern look in my eye, he just nods and takes his blanket, cuddling into it, laying down and finding his soother.

He's not crying for the first time in time out, but when I slyly look over so he can't see me, he's twirling his hair with one hand and playing with the edge of his yellow blanket. He's okay.

By the time I'm ready to put the muffins in the muffin tray, I hear singing. He's quietly singing the teddy bear song to himself. The words are all smooshed together, blocked by the soother, but it's definitely the song. I smile. He's so frickin' cute.

I decide to let him try helping me fill the muffin tray and go over to get him. He sits up and studies me still twisting his hair. "Okay, sweetheart. Your time out's over, you ready to come out?"

He nods and reaches his hair twirling hand out to me, making a grabby fist. I worry at first, since he's been awfully quiet. He's been so talkative these days, I'd kind of gotten used to it. There are still times he's prone to silence, but they are fewer and fewer.

I lift him to me and he snuggles in. "Daddy?" he says and I'm freaking relieved.

"Yes baby boy?"

"I hurt you."

"You did, but it was on accident. Daddy forgives you—don't worry another thought about it," I say pressing his nose.

I set him down, so he's standing in front of the bowl and show him how to scoop the muffin batter into the trays. He's really careful, and I'm surprised at how neatly he's able to do it. He's the messiest eater ever, I thought I'd have some batter on the counter. "Wow! My talented boy. What a good job."

I put them in the oven and set the timer. Dean's dropped down to the floor and is crawling around, probably on a mission to find a toy. When I check on him next, I see he's found his farm set and is setting out the animals to play. I'm happy to see this time out seems to have gone a little better than the first two, but I can't help feel that he's got something on this mind.

I can read Dean pretty well now, so I'm pretty certain. I let him process it as he plays and hope he'll let me inside his head.

It's a bit later, I'm reading on the couch and starting to think about dinner when I feel a little tug at my shirt. "Hmmm…Dean I think we have ants again," I say then look down at him and pretend to be surprised. "Oh! It's you." I set my book down and grab him up to me, snuggling him close, I get a little giggle out of him.

"D-daddy?" he says tentatively.

"Yes, my love?"

"I-I hurt Daddy, but is okay now, b'cause I have a time out?"

I don't want him to think he 'owed' me anything, but I know this is his way of understanding how time outs work. I phrase it different, more for my own conscience, and with the hope Dean will understand someday. "Kind of. You were misbehaving, being a little naughty, so Daddy had to give you thinking time. You still weren't doing what Daddy asked and yes, you hurt Daddy accidentally, so you had to stay in time out to pause and remember how to behave nicely."

He looks confused again, so to save him the turmoil of having to reassess everything, I say, "yes, sweetheart. You hurt Daddy, but you had a time out, so it's all okay now."

If that's the way he understands it, it's okay for now, so long as he feels better. I run fingers through his tousled hair—which is extra tousled today from all the twisting.

"An', an' Dean's a good boy?"

"He's my good boy, always."

"An' Daddy loves me?"

"Always, remember? What does Daddy say to Dean all the time?"

"Daddy loves Dean in the morning, in the evening, an' under the moon." He smiles wide.

Okay, so I might have stolen those lines from the skinamarink song. Sue me. He loves it. "That's right. And that's all the time."

He nods. "Okay, Daddy." He pats my cheek over the scratch and leans in to kiss it forgetting to take his soother out, so I get a soother kiss.

"Did Dean just kiss Daddy all better?"

Nod.

"Thanks, peaches."


	5. Big Boy Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all the Cas's came home!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant this one would not update fast. Only when inspired. It wasn't supposed to go past 2 chapters, but here I am five in. 
> 
> **New Tags have been added** All sexual tags refer to Sam and Cas. 
> 
> After the XXXXX's is a sex scene with Cas and Sam. You don't have to read, but you may want to skim b/c something important happens.

He's getting fidgety and a bit cranky. This is longer than we usually drive and he needs a nap, but right now we need gas more. "Dean, where's your soother?"

He's rubbing his eyes, but he sullenly reaches down his shirt to retrieve the soother that's hanging there by a leather throng. I bought it a while back; it's handy. He shows it to me. "Go on. Put it in your mouth."

He does, obediently, but he's still in a bad mood and pouts at me. "I know you're tired, baby boy. Daddy'll be quick getting gas, then we'll find a motel and you can nap."

He shakes his head as I press heavy on the gas pedal trying to get us to the gas station faster. "No naps for Dean today?"

He nods, but there are tears in his eyes. He needs a nap, he knows it and he hates it. Lately, he's been trying to be more independent. It's not going well. I help him as much as I can, but sometimes, I just have to put my foot down when his efforts are doing more harm than good. Thankfully Dean's idea of independence is not what my idea of independence is. Not having a nap, for instance, is a big deal. "Can you be a good boy without a nap?"

I get a solemn nod from beside me. "Okay then, behave yourself and you can skip nap today. How about you pick us some music?"

I get a big smile as he wipes the tears away and sifts through the small music collection in the Impala. I never thought I'd be the one driving with Dean sitting shotgun, but that's how it is now. Dean's eyes are mischievous when he finally picks something and I see why when it's Scorpions blasting from the speakers. His hand moves to his hair, twisting and twisting and twisting it. He's bravely made a joke, but he's nervous about it. Dean's come so far. I don't know he'll ever make it back to what he was, but he's his version of healing.

He's waiting to see if he's in trouble. "You think that's funny? Because Daddy doesn't like Scorpions?" I laugh. I'm happy to see him happier.

He giggles a giggle that's rough. It's both manly and little at the same time. "I like Scorpions, but you don't like them Daddy." He's still laughing.

"That's a funny joke to play on Daddy, Dean." If I think about it too hard, it makes me cry. His "joke" is innocent, so unlike my big brother. He's satisfied for about ten minutes, until he starts to nod off, he has to keep startling himself awake. I say nothing, but he's getting irritated. Somehow, he manages not to fall asleep in the time it takes me to get to the gas station. I pull in and check on him. "How you doing, Peaches?"

"I, I'm hungry Daddy."

"Okay. I'll go in and get you something, right after I fill up."

"No," he whines. "I want to do it. I'm a big boy, Daddy. I can."

He really can't. This always ends in disaster. Bad, bad, so bad. But having to say no to the hopeful look on his face is worse. "Okay, Dean. You can go in, but you must listen to Daddy's rules." I'm going to try something new.

I don't know if he's forgotten how money works, or if he simply gets frazzled, but he can't seem to use it…right. He picks up more items than he can buy with the amount I've given him, like he thinks any money will buy anything (not seeming to understand that each bill represents a different amount) and when it comes to the action of paying, he sometimes fumbles with what he's supposed to do with the money. Inevitably, he breaks down to tears and since I've been watching through the glass the entire time anyway, I have to come to his rescue whether he wants me to or not. He then spends the rest of the time hating himself for not being able to do it—buy a snack.

I pull out my wallet and take out a ten. "We're going to go for real food in a bit, so just a snack. You can get a bag of chips and a milk. Okay?"

"Yes, Daddy," he says taking the tenner.

"What are you going to get, Dean? Tell me without the soother, please."

He pops his soother out. "One bag of chips and a milk. Can I get soda instead?"

I'm happy he feels comfortable to talk more and ask questions. "Milk," I tell him sternly with a fond smile. "I'll let you have soda with dinner. C'mere."

I pull him close, so I can scent him. I let my pheromones bleed out through my skin and surround him. He croons into me, unable to help it. When alpha scent, surrounds an omega in this manner, they naturally seek to be closer to the alpha. Scenting is not a foolproof way to keep an omega protected. I could still be challenged, but legally, Dean is mine because of our family relation. I would win in court, hell, I'm big enough, I'm likely to win a regular old fight with another alpha, but I'd rather not put Dean through that.

When we're together, there's no worry at all. People assume he's mine and it's usually left at that. _Not that I don't get the odd question and offer for Dean—he's very pretty._ Without me he's vulnerable, but my scent on him, will tell anyone who is interested, they've got at least me to deal with if they want to touch him. "Love you, Daddy," he says popping his soother back in.

"You sure you want to keep that in?" Alphas can do what they want with their omegas. The soother won't be strange exactly, but there are other groups we have to be wary of. Groups that think they're protecting omegas. They're not 'bad' per se. At least they are kind to omegas. An omega isn't likely to get abused at one of those hippy communes, but I find they have little understanding of omegas, thinking they have to be protected and sheltered because all of them are fragile and weak, supposedly. They'll take your omega away for reasons they see fit. It would be easy to get Dean back, since they still have no jurisdiction with the law, but it's another happening I'd rather keep from happening.

I get Dean's, 'of course I'm keeping it' eyes. I get it, he needs something to soothe him if I'm not there. For a moment I see a bit of fire—fire that burns like Dean before…before. _I've gotta do this without you, but I need something, Daddy._ I look into the glass windows. No one inside. Just the cashier. "Okay, critter. Straight in and straight out."

He nods with big, worshipful eyes.

Dean scoots off the long seat of the Impala, opening the heavy door and so stressed over his self-imposed task, he forgets to shut the door. Another thing to be glad about. _Dad would have beat the shit out of him for that,_ but he's not even thinking about it at the moment. Good. This is good for him. _Let your baby go, Daddy._

I head around to close his door, as he heaves the glass door open and heads inside. All the while I keep an eye on him. The cashier, female, watches him enter, but has no other interest in him other than that. I circle around to fill up before he gets back. He heads to the drink isle first. With the way the store's set up and with no one else inside, I can see his every move clearly.

He pauses at the selection of sodas, looking at them longingly, his head whips around to look out at me, but by this time I've got my head pointed down to my task of filling the gas tank, just my eyes looking up at him, so he can't tell I'm looking up at him. I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. He's actually _considering_ getting the soda I told him he wasn't allowed to have. He looks back and forth between the soda and me several times, before he moves on to get the milk I told him to get.

Next should be chips, but he casually wanders to the magazine isle. _He's a little rebel today._ I'm a bit proud of my little rebel, so long as his rebellion doesn’t go too far. His rules keep him safe. Again, he looks back and forth between the magazines and me. I didn't realize he'd want one. Next time.

When he gets to the chips, he's flustered again. Before it made sense, deciding to disobey me is something for him to hesitate over, but I said he could get chips, why's he look indecisive? I said he could get any kind he want…ed… Oh, um, no I didn't. There's a lot to decide from. It takes him awhile, but eventually, he makes his selection and heads to the cashier.

This is the moment of truth. He's made it this far before, the cashier is the hardest part. He can barely look at her as he shuffles from foot to foot, still holding his items and sucking his soother. I can't hear what she says to him, but Dean looks afraid as he thrusts his items on the counter. She looks unpleasant.

Fuck. Dean's hair-twisting now as she's saying another thing to him, probably telling him the total. He's scared and stressed out and suddenly doesn't know what to do. _The money baby boy. The money._ I squeeze the gas nozzle harder, as if that will make it fill faster.

I can see he's just barely hanging by a thread, on the verge of tears, my heart pangs. He's still shuffling and twisting, has got the money in hand and uses the forearm of that hand, to rub his tired, frustrated eyes. _It's hard for Dean to think when someone's shouting at him._

I really want to swoop in and help him, but he's so close. If he does this, he'll be so proud of himself.

The gas tank is finally full. I pull the nozzle out and close the gas cap, but remain where I am so I can watch and go in if I need to. Dean's full on crying now, soother falls out to hang around his neck and the lady is full on yelling at him. I take the first step in making my way toward the gas station in time to see him finally thrust the money at her. She's still lecturing him as she proceeds with the transaction. She shoves his stuff back at him, cruelly, not even offering him a bag and points to the door, a get the fuck out if I ever saw one.

Dean reaches, _bravely, so bravely,_ for his stuff. She throws his change at him as he cringes, letting it fall to the floor, not bothering to pick it up. It's all I can do to not to go in there and rip her damn head off. Can't she smell my scent on him? She must know I'm near by. The alpha in me rages. Dean may not be my lover, but he's still my omega. We're family, bonded by blood. When Dad died, the head of family rights fell to me. All in our 'pack' are now under my care. That's Dean. Until he's mated off to someone else, _if_ that even happens, he's my responsibility. And there's more with Dean. Because of the kind of care I give Dean, he's a bit like my child. I mean, he's not my child, but I feel a similar kind of protectiveness for him, mixed with that of an Alpha for one of his pack. What's she's doing is the same as picking on a bear cub. My bear cub. My pup.

The only thing stopping me is Dean. I know how bad he wants this and he's the closest he's ever been to completing the task.

Dean the graceful hunter trips and falls, scraping up his hands as he fumbles out of the door, his stuff flies everywhere, but he gets up fast to retrieve his items. Dashes for the car like a scared rabbit (wish I'd left the door open for him) and has to yank at the door handle to open it. He hugs the items close as he cries. I move around to shut his door again, then slip in beside him. "Dah…Dah… Daddy!"

"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay," I say pulling him close. "You did a really good job. Look! You did it!" I squeeze him tightly and smooth his twisted hair for him.

"Scar-scary. Ah-huh. A-huh. Scary, Daddy," he says between sobs.

I want him to focus on the stuff he did right. "Dean. _Dean,_ look. You got the milk, just like I said and chips. You even picked the kind you _wanted._ You did it all by yourself!"

He lets go the stuff and squishes himself into me, trying to hide in my armpit and starts wailing. Shaking wails. Nothing I can do now but hold him and love him. So there we sit. Time passes. Finally someone else pulls into the station, but they have to use another pump. I glare at the lady through the glass as Dean cries, imagining her head exploding between my giant hands. She stares at us, but she's smart enough not to come out here.

Eventually, Dean's cries turn to sniffles. "C'mon now. Don't let that lady ruin your day, or your victory. You did it all by yourself."

"By myself?"

"Yeah. All by yourself." I urge him to sit up and I reach into his diaper bag to retrieve a dry cloth and gently dab around his eyes. Using a baby wipe, I clean up his hands as he grimaces. They're not too badly scraped up. But there is a little blood. Once he's cleaned, I get him to blow into a Kleenex, do up his seatbelt and pull out of the gas station. The items are where they fell on the seat.

Dean's quiet, staring out the front window. I pull over again when we get far enough away and dig into his bag for an empty bottle. His eyes get wide and excited. "This calls for a victory drink." I pour the milk he bought, into the bottle, screw the nipple on and hand it to him, having saved just a little for me. "Cheers." I clink the almost empty milk carton with his bottle and down the last sip of milk from the carton. He lays his head back and begins working on the bottle, as I continue down the highway.

I can tell he's thinking. He looks over at me occasionally, but it's hard for him; he's got to keep his head tilted to drink the bottle. He manages though, looks, then he goes back to staring out the window. Finally, he works up the courage to ask me what's on his mind, I hear the bottle's squelching sound, as Dean pulls it from his mouth. "Daddy? Am I stupid?"

The lady told him that, didn't she? _Didn't she?_ I want to turn this car around… "No, Peaches. You're not stupid. If Daddy says it, it's true."

"Okay."

He drinks some more, then has another thought he decides to share. "I did it myself, Daddy."

"You did and you were so good." I'm not going to mention I saw him dallying and looking at the magazines.

"I'm a big boy now, that means no naps. _Ever._ "

"Oh really? Hate to break it to you, but big boys have naps too."

"They do?"

"Yep."

"Oh." He looks disappointed; clearly having thought he was onto something. When Dean proves he can go a day without having a major breakdown, he can discard the naps. Until then, I don't mind him skipping the odd one, but they're staying. I still holding onto the hope, he'll pass out when we get to the Motel even though he's hell bent on not napping today. He seriously needs a snooze.

His eyes are droopy when we pull into the Motel. He didn't end up busting into the chips after his bottle, so I stuff those in the diaper bag to bring with. He doesn't make any move to get out. I know why. I open the passenger side door, diaper bag slung over my shoulder. "What's this? I'm carrying you now? I thought you weren't sleepy?"

His answer is holding his arms out to me, expectantly. Thankfully Dean's quite a bit smaller than me, with being an omega and I'm quite large for an alpha. Plus, I work out. It's not easy, but I lift him out of the Impala and to my hip. I slip his soother into his mouth and hope he stays awake long enough to get him to a bed. Only Cas can carry a Dean that's asleep easily. I can do it if I have to, but it's tough and awkward. I usually end up waking him in the process.

The lady at the desk is a whole lot more friendly than the gas station bitch, we get our key and are off to our room.

In the room, I set Dean on the bed and can see the crankiness pouring off him. We're T minus sixty to meltdown. "Lay back, Daddy's going to change your diaper."

I start pulling off his jeans and change his soggy diaper. It's different with adult diapers. Not only are they a different size, but they require special pads I have to stuff inside. They're expensive. I hope one day I can potty train Dean.

For a self-proclaimed "big boy," he's very little through his diaper change, playing with his feet and rolling around; I have to tell him to be still a couple of times. When I'm done, I leave him pant-less, his favorite and hope he's tired enough, he'll just lie on the bed and nod off. But he's especially stubborn today, trying to prove a point, connected to the gas station event, no doubt.

I leave to throw the soiled diaper in the garbage and he climbs off the bed, crawling behind me. He pushes back to sit up when I open the cupboard under the sink, watching me the whole time. _He's not going to go to sleep,_ and I'm going to have tired cranky Dean 'till his bedtime. Joy.

I hear the familiar flapping of trench coat and turn to see Cas sitting at the small kitchen table. Dean sees him too and races for him on all fours, hands slapping against the old, yellowing linoleum of the small kitchen. "Cassy!"

He's a much different little boy than he was months ago with Cas. He can still get shy around Cas, but he trusts him. Completely. Totally, utterly adores Cas. In fact, he listens to Cas far better than he does me. Cas says it's because he's sterner with Dean, while I pretty much let him do what he wants. He's not wrong. "Hello butterfly. I missed you," Cas says lifting him into his lap when he reaches him.

Excitement turns to tears and Dean's sobbing into Cas's trench coat. "Pa-Pa-Papa…and she said…stupid…no good and, and, and…scared. Scared. Then, owie, Papa!" Dean flips his palms up to show Cas his small scrapes.

Oh. There's that too. Dean calls Cas Papa now. A name Dean gave him. He still says the occasional 'Cas,' or 'Cassy,' but it's mostly Papa. Cas rocks Dean and looks to me for an explanation. "He wanted to go in the gas station by himself. I said he could buy two items. No one was in the store, except this bitchy cashier. She wasn't nice to Dean, then he scraped his hands when he fell on the pavement. But Dean, tell Papa you did it—you did it all by yourself! You were scared, but you still did it."

Cas investigates his hands as Dean tells him, "by myself, Papa."

There's a short glow of blue as Cas heals Dean's minor scrapes. "That's a very good job. That person who said mean things to you is not someone you need to listen to."

Dean nods and sniffles into Cas. "You're a very tired little boy. Why aren't you asleep?"

"Not gonna have a nap today."

Cas starts laughing and looks at me knowing exactly how that happened. "In my defense, I didn't agree to _no_ nap, I said if he behaved, no nap." Which was all about to fall apart anyway.

"Well that's a pickle, because it sounds like you were a very good boy, but you're not going to make it 'till after dinner, little one and Papa wanted to play fun things with you. Would you be willing to have a rest if Papa lays with you?"

Dean's thumb goes in his mouth, he nods and snuggles in, not willing to miss out on playtime with Papa. He molds tighter to Cas, fully expecting the angel to carry him. Of course Cas does, lifting him with him, as he stands.

I smooth my hair back with both hands, suddenly feeling a little shy of the angel myself as he approaches me. We haven't seen each other in weeks; I've got dolphins doing tricks in my stomach as his cobalt-blue eyes zone in on me; check me over. When they're satisfied I'm all right, a smile creases his forehead; he pulls me in by the chin for a soft kiss. "You're home," I breathe. "Early." We didn't expect him until tomorrow.

"Finished as soon as I could. I missed you both like crazy."

"We missed you too, Cas."

"And you've been spoiling our little one as usual," he smiles.

Dean isn't the only one making declarations. Cas has taken quite a bit of ownership himself. He looks after Dean a lot now, while I'm either doing schoolwork, or working—well, when I was working. This is the longest we've all been apart since Cas began starring as a regular in our home. Dean needed some hunts and Cas had his own angel business to attend to, so we've been on the road a couple of weeks now. I finally caved and let Cas support us financially for a little while. Just while I finish school. This is a recent development; just made official before we left on this extended hunt. I still keep a firm budget. Only buying what we need, with the odd extra for Dean. Cas gave me an absurd amount of money and a credit card, but I'm still frugal.

"Maybe a little."

Cas carries Dean over to one of the two beds and lays him down carefully; I retrieve his yellow blankie from the diaper bag and give it to him to snuggle, which he does, thumb still in mouth. Cas slips in behind him, wrapping his warmth around Dean, removes Dean's thumb from Dean's mouth and replaces it with his soother. Dean's eyes are already closing, but he whips his head around to look at me. "Daddy, I'm still a big boy though?"

I know what he means. He thinks naps are for little boys and he wants to be a big boy so bad. "Of course you are. Daddy and Papa's big boy. Big boys can have naps too," I assure him. I don't feel like I'm lying to him. He's his version of a big boy and that's what matters.

That's what gets him to finally give in and let sleep take over. He's out in seconds. Cas delicately extracts himself from Dean and we pull one of the blankets off the other bed to wrap him in. It's not long after that, Cas has me pinned against a wall, kissing and kissing me. The only thing more dominate than an alpha is an angel. Because of my instincts, I usually fight him, which makes for kick-ass lovemaking; other times, I give myself to him and let go—depends on my mood. Today, I'm all his.

XXXXX

I can tell I'm not going to win any battles of dominance today. Cas is too wild. It's been too long. I'm going to be taken; hard; fast. It's a good thing I was already prepping myself for tomorrow. He flips me so his chest is flush with my back and pops the button of my jeans as he holds my hands, locked together in one of his strong hands, behind my back and claws my jeans down, inch by inch with his free hand, my boxers coming with.

"Oh good. This is in here, I don't think I can wait long enough to prep you."

He gives the plug I've got in, two embarrassing spanks that have me jutting forward. An alpha doing something so submissive as wearing a plug for someone is embarrassing enough, him spanking it, elicits a deeper level of embarrassment that makes me blush. Fuck does my cock like it. He manhandles me to the table in the kitchen and bends me over, leaving the plug in. I'm not worried about Dean waking up, so long as we're not too loud. He's so tired, it being well past his usual naptime, he'll be dead to the world.

Cas is over top of me hissing in my ear. "I want to tie you up with your dry alpha hole spread wide. I'd leave you there for days, lube you up and fuck you 'till it drove you crazy. I wouldn't let you come and you'd like that wouldn’t you? You'd like me making you wait?"

"Nooo," I say, but I mean yes. My cock tells him I mean yes. That and Cas knows me by now.

"Oh yes, you would," he says removing the plug and sliding his cock inside, plenty of lube still in there to coat the way. I didn't even hear the zipper to his pants, I don't know when he pulled it out, but it's there and it's all the way inside me. This is unnatural, wrong. I try to tell myself it's okay because he's an angel, but to my alpha wiring it feels wrong, _dirty._

 _Which is why I fucking like it._ Today, it's bliss.

"Come on Sam, beg me to fuck you, or I will anyway, but I won't let you come."

He really means that, he has those kinds of powers. The thought he might not give me permission to come turns me on more, but also fuels me to obey him because I do want to come, so bad. He's still close to me, over me, consuming me; I don't have to speak too loud to do as he's asked. "Please Cas. Fuck me."

"But you're a big strong alpha, aren't you going to fight me? I'm gonna make my vessel's alpha cock knot and it's going to stay inside your ass for as long as I want."

"N-not gonna fight you. Please, do that, all of that."

"Okay."

Cas does. He fucks me hard as I quietly moan and bite my lip in half trying not to scream. "Come with me my naughty wolf." I do. We come together. It's magnificent.

True to his word, he's 'knotted' me and pulls me onto the floor to hold me, stroke my hair, kiss my neck and inhale my scent. Not that he needs it, but I release some pheromones and let them coat him. It's highly unnecessary for me to mark Cas in such a way, since he's an angel, but I'm still driven to mark him. Instinct. I want my scent all over him. It feels good, him holding me like this, even on the gross Motel room floor (I plan on showering later anyway); I can let go; all my anxiety melting away for just a few moments.

"Thanks for that Cas. That was…awesome." There are no words.

"Marry me, Sam."

It's so out of the blue I have to make sure he's actually said it. "Marry you?"

"Is there something wrong with your hearing?" That's not a joke, he's honestly asking.

"No, I heard you Cas, but angels don't get married. Do they?"

"They don't. Doesn't mean they can't. I'd like to engage in this human tradition with you. Mate with you."

We have mating ceremonies, weddings, public declarations of love. I never thought I wanted that, but now that Cas has asked me, I want it. "You'd let me bite you?"

"You bite me all the time."

"Those are just love bites. This is _the_ bite."

"I'll wear it anywhere you want me to. Proudly."

That makes me beam.

"I want something too. An angel bite would mean nothing, I want to give you a tattoo, right here," he says sucking the back of my neck. "On the outside," he clarifies since I already have his angel brail written on my ribs.

"What? Like, if found, please return. Property of Castiel?" I laugh. Cas may be rough and dominating in bed, but outside of that, he likes to make jokes.

He's not joking now. He's serious. "Just _Castiel's_ in Enochian will do."

I blush, hotly. "Of course I will Cas. Proudly."

We're quiet for another while, 'till Cas says, "I believe it is customary for you to answer with a yes, or a no."

Oh right. "Sorry, Cas. Of course I'll marry you."

Whatever he did to make his cock knot, he undoes and slips out of me, but the sensation of emptiness isn't for long; he slips the plug back inside, sealing his come within me. "For later. I'm going to want to celebrate when the baby's asleep for the night. I haven't had nearly enough of you, Sam."


	6. Inside Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, whoa, did not know that so many people were following this story. Thank you! The kudos and comments are much appreciated. I have this chapter and one more coming for this story...then can't promise when. 
> 
> Confession: This was begun with very little storyline construction. I just wanted to write adultbaby!Dean. Therefore, not really sure where this one's going to go. I've only got bits and pieces in my head. Feel free to ask questions about this world, it will likely spark my muse = more chapters.
> 
> I am currently working on another chapter of BDD, so wasn't going to post this until I'd finished, but thought something while you wait might be appreciated? Hope I was right!

I'm not sure how Dean is taking the news of our upcoming ceremony. He's been quiet, more so than his new usual. Currently, we're at home and are happy to be home. We finished one more hunt before we returned. He's lying on the couch in his diaper, drinking his bottle, head propped up on the couch's arm, watching me fold laundry. It's early-ish. With a little one (because I do consider Dean a little one, even if he considers himself a big boy), I have to get as many jobs done as I can, when I can. I was up before Dean this morning, so I threw in a load and had our stuff to the point of drying, as I tidied up the place, just so Dean can destroy it again.

Dean likes to take his time and wake up slowly. Sometimes he looks all around; I know he's thinking, always thinking and when he's in a good mood, he he'll even hum some of the songs he likes behind the nipple.

Today, he's got both big, green eyes on me, twisting the hair we've let grow a little long, taking the odd pull from his bottle then resting, repeating that cycle, as I fold. He's worried about something and too afraid to ask, but I think I'm sure I know what it is anyway. "Dean, are you excited Daddy and Papa are getting married?"

He's given away by a nod that's too fast and a slight hitch of his breath. He's not just twisting his hair, but pulling, sharp, little tugs. I keep folding like there's nothing wrong. "Good. You should be excited. Do you know why?"

He shakes his head.

"Cas is going to be your papa officially, would you like that, baby boy?"

The hair pulling stops, there's just twisting now. "How?"

I have to look down, to keep him from seeing my lips draw tight, trying not to smile. "Well, Cas is an angel, as you know. He lives in a vessel that's his permanently now. The man who used to live in it, is in heaven now. Jimmy Novak. On Earth Cas is known as Jimmy Novak."

He's still twisting, but he's listening raptly as he sucks. His bare feet toy with the couch cushion. I'm right at the end of the long couch, just out of reach. I fold the laundry from the 'unfolded' basket and place it into the 'folded' one. "People can change their names anytime as you know, Cas is going to acquire identification with Jimmy's name, whether legal, or not and use that to _legally_ change Jimmy's name to Castiel. Now why would he go through all that trouble I wonder?"

I let him think about that while I fold a pair of his jeans. He flexes his toes, twists his hair and sucks. The bottle squelches when he pulls is out. "Why, Daddy?"

I make sure not to look at him, giving him the firm assurance with my body language that everything is normal. _Cas and I getting married is nothing out of the ordinary._ "Why else? He wants to make sure he can register you as his little omega too! You're already mine because we share blood and I'm the alpha of our family, but Cas wants you to be his too. He wants to adopt you and make sure that legally, it's true."

He finally stops twisting his hair (good sign), switches hands on his bottle then begins fiddling with the top of his diaper. He knows that must be a good thing, but he's still confused about something on his mind. I see if I can pry it out. "What did you think was going to happen, sweetheart?"

"C-Cas was gonna take you home with him."

"To Heaven?" I do look up at his face now and set my folding aside.

"Yeah."

"Wait a minute, did you think I was going to leave my Dean? That Papa would leave his Dean all by his-self?"

His breath hitches again and he nods as one lonely tear trickles out of his left eye. He's embarrassed and overwhelmed with thinking that was true. "You are so silly," I say as I tickle his foot and creep closer. "As if we'd ever leave our Dean."

It's not fair that I'm stealing laughs by tickling him. But I want his nervous system to remember this moment with laughter, even if it's stolen. Dean needs that. He needs things to be embossed into him bodily. I tickle his bare belly too and he laughs, twisting away from my hand and kicking his legs. I don't tickle him long, but I do move to his side, so he can drink and I can fix his twisted hair as I tell him, "We're never leaving Dean. Not never, ever. Got it?"

His nod is still quick, but there's relief attached to it. He's breathing easier and the anxious knot that plagued him has released. I wipe away his tear. "Cas and I getting married means Cas will live with us. _Here._ He still has to go away sometimes, but he's going to move in. How about we make him something today, to welcome him?"

"Yeah, Daddy."

Poor Dean. Living with the fear I was going to leave him all week. He barely let on. I only figured it out because I know him so well. He probably didn't want to say anything, wanting me to marry Cas, because he knows it's something I want—he still tries to take care of me like that. I don't want to make a big deal of it. Dean won't like that, but I am going to speak with Cas, so we can use language with Dean to let him know we're both here for him, always.

"Where should Cas sleep when he stays here?" We both know Cas doesn't sleep, but Dean knows what I mean.

"My room."

"Your room? I don't get a turn?"

"Sometimes," he smiles mischievously catching onto the game.

"Okay. How about when we eat? Where will he sit?"

"Beside me."

"This is so unfair! I want to sit with Cas too."

He laughs and pulls the bottle (finished now) out of his mouth.

"Do I at least get to have some playtime with him?"

Dean shakes his head, smiling huge. "I play with him. Not you Daddy."

"What? The injustice! How come you get all the Cas time?"

"I'm his little boy."

"You are, are you? You were a big boy the other day, but you're a little boy for Papa sometimes?"

He nods in a very little way.

"What does Daddy get, huh?" I tickle him some more enjoying the squeals and giggles I get. When I stop, he stares up at me, wonderment all about him, then suddenly dives for my waist, securing his arms tightly.

"Thank you… Sammy."

**

By the time Cas knocks on the door, I've forced Dean into the blue onsie with the puppies on it. Given the choice, he would just stay naked all day; the onsie is a compromise. If he has to wear clothes, he prefers a onsie. His blue pacifier clip is clipped to his collar and his favorite pacifier in his mouth.

Cas doesn't have to knock, for numerous reasons. The least of which being the fact he hasn't been a 'guest' in our home a long time; he has a key. When he shows up out of nowhere, it doesn't scare Dean anymore—makes him jump the odd time, but not like before. But Cas still knocks sometimes, because Dean likes it and Cas likes the way he gets greeted at the door.

"Who's that?" I say to Dean, who's already perked up at the knock. He knows who it is, and smiles big behind his soother, crawling at top speed for the door. Cas knows just the right time to open the door (with his key) and step inside to greet the happy little boy. Dean sits back on his heels, thrusting his arms out to Cas, demanding to be picked up.

"Hello Butterfly. Papa missed you."

Dean latches onto Cas, letting his omega instincts take over, seeking shelter in Cas's alpha nature, to be scented. So huge for Dean to do— _let his omega nature show._ We've been encouraging it. Cas is not an alpha like me. He's an angel, alpha in his own right, but he is in an alpha vessel. He's got the means to scent Dean if he wants to, but it's not _instinct_ for him to do so like it is for me. It doesn't satisfy him in the same way and he often misses the cues (though he's getting better) but right now, I think a doorknob would get it. Cas releases some of his vessel's pheromones and Dean breathes a sigh and pulls on his soother.

"Made a picture for you, Papa. Wanna see?"

"I want to see."

I provide the picture, via Dean's sketchbook, since he has no intentions of leaving Cas's arms. Sometimes, Dean draws 'little.' He'll compose a work of crayon that isn't much different from an actual six-year-old. For a while, it was the only way he drew. But Dean's a natural artist. Now he'll do sketches, which are very good. Today, he did me hugging him with Papa hugging both of us, his trench coat fanned open behind him.

"Wow. You did a very good job. I love it."

I can't see his face, but I know he's smiling into Cas's shoulder.

Dean is a very happy boy through dinner. A complete three sixty as to what he's been, since hearing my and Cas's news. I get a few questioning looks from Cas over dinner, to which I mouth, _I'll tell you later._

Bath time still goes about as well as it ever did. It's the hurdle we can't seem to jump. Dean's better. Marginally. We're nowhere close to where he's having fun and enjoying; it's a game of distracting him and rushing him out. Once in a very small while, I can get him to play with a toy, but I've got to stay right beside him. Tonight, it's a quick wash, but I still take gentle care with his hair and washing him down with a soft, soapy cloth. "Let's see your toes."

There's a small splash, as Dean lifts his foot up, I take it in my hand and give him a mischievous glint before I start working the cloth in between his toes. It tickles and he can't help laughing and thrashing around a little. I'm cheating again, like earlier, but his mournful face is a stark contrast to his sunny face through dinner, I can hardly bear it. I go down the crazy path of questions that lead to nothing good. _What happened in here? Is he thinking of it? If he is, what about it can't he let go? Why?_

"All clean. Other foot."

"That tickles, Daddy."

"How else am I gonna get'em clean? I won't tickle you this time."

He's suspicious, but he gives me his other foot, biting his lip in anticipation. I don't tickle him this time; it's very important to keep the promises you make to Dean. "I can get out now Daddy?" he asks when I finish with his second foot. I've got all the lights on, it's an open style bathroom, nowhere for someone to hide, but the problem is, it's not just _this_ bathroom, it's whatever happened in bathrooms, haunting him.

I open a big, fluffy towel for him and hold it open, as he hurriedly gets out of the tub. I don't like it when he does that, he falls sometimes, but this is one of those things; no matter how many times I say it, he won't, can't stop. Whatever fear is in him, it chases him out of the bath. I dry him off, as he stands on the cream bathmat; he's staring at me with his thinking, deciding look. "D-Dad-Daddy, I can drown in there?" My heart's beating fast. In all this time, he's never said anything, never even given a clue, but that's a big one and I get it.

"No you can't. Do you know why?"

He shakes his head and waits for an answer, with those big green eyes holding all his hope, everything, depending on me to make it better. I darken my voice, so it's as alpha as it can be. "Because Daddy won't let you drown in there. Someone would have to hold you under," he flinches, "and if anyone were to try that, again," _'cause fuck, that's what Dad did to him, isn't it?_ "they'd never see the light of another day. Got it?"

He nods. "You can get'em?"

"Oh, I can get'em all right and Papa would be right beside me."

"Okay, Daddy. Can we go now?"

 _I'm not hopeful enough to think that's all Dad did,_ but Dean's declared the conversation over. He'll chase a scary monster, but he doesn't want to talk about the scary monster chasing him. "Yep, let's go get you a diaper."

He lays on the bed for me, and immediately grabs his toes, giving me an inordinate view of his, well, everything, but it's all done innocently. He's simply a little guy, wanting to play with his toes, waiting for Daddy to change his diaper, nothing more. I don't think Dean's ever going to reach a point where him spreading his legs like that means something else for someone. I don't think I'm ever going to be comfortable with someone mating with him. I could be wrong, of course, but it's hard to envision that right now. I don't think about it too often, or I get anxious. He's just not ready for sex. I've had to milk Dean's omega prostate for him, since he won't do it himself. _He won't touch himself at all down there._ He cried the whole time, it wasn't enjoyable at all for him, it was less enjoyable for me, but I had to do it.

Because Dean is Omega, his 'sperm' is different. It's not really sperm. He can only get pregnant, not impregnate. But his smaller set of omega testicles, still fill with the sticky, liquid and he can still ejaculate that way when he's aroused. Omega's are very lucky; they can be sexually stimulated in multiple ways. But for Dean's sake, I'm glad he doesn't get aroused often, only during his heats. Heats lead to arousal and arousal to aching 'blue balls,' which need to be relived. This was before Cas. Now, Cas helps us when Dean's heat hits. A little wave of grace and he's alleviated.

While Dean plays, I grab all his nighttime stuff; a diaper, cream, his fire truck onsie pajamas, and his nighttime soothers (one for sucking, one for holding). "Bum up, Peaches."

He lifts for me and I slide the diaper under. "So do you want me to read you a story tonight or Cas?"

He thinks about it as I apply cream and tape him in. Finally, he shakes his head. "No stories, Daddy. I can, can snuggle on the couch with you and Papa?"

He's rubbing his eyes. Poor little guy. All I can think about, is, is…what he said after his bath. "Of course. We'll watch a cartoon instead."

I take him to brush his teeth. When he's good to go, I give him his two soothers. One goes in his mouth and the other, he holds. We've brought his yellow blanket along, it trails just behind him down the stairs.

"Who's that I see coming down the stairs?" Cas asks.

Dean gets shy, probably thinking Papa's going to convince him to go up to bed, which he would if Dean was just working Daddy over, so he could stay up later. "It's okay, baby boy. Papa's just teasing you. Go ahead and get snuggled." I'm going to make Dean a bottle. I don't like him to have one at night after brushing his teeth, but he needs something to help him tonight.

When I get back, Dean's got his head on a pillow, on Cas's lap, on his side, face furrowed into his blanket. He's not crying, but he looks close to. Cas is playing with his hair. Dean gets excited when he sees what I have for him. He loves bottles. He passes me the soother from his mouth in exchange for the bottle and rolls onto his back so he can drink it. Cas props him up a little better, so he won't choke; I grab his feet and place them in my lap.

Dean rubs his eyes, with the hand holding his other soother, as he drinks. I smile big at him every time he looks at me. He's having a tough time because of his confession, but he's got to get through it. We watch an episode of _Paw Patrol_ on Netflix and that's all it takes for him to pass out.

**

I slide my bare leg over Cas's and kiss the back of his neck, as we wait for my knot to come down. "Love you, Cas."

"Love you, Sam. You ready to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Cas," I sigh. I want to talk to him, need to, I just don't where to start, so I let it all pour out—everything from the dawn of time. Pretty much. All my worries and fears about Dean. I tell him about earlier, how he thought we were getting rid of him, about what he said after his bath, all this said crying into his neck. Finally, my knot deflates and I can pull out. He turns to face me as I wipe tears with the back of my hand.

"You can't undo the past Sam and it's not your fault. You do everything for him you can. It's amazing how far he's come because of you. You can't deny that most humans would have discarded an omega as damaged as he was—whatever he is now, it's better than that."

"I know. It just builds up sometimes. Hurts my heart."

"Oh Sam. My Sam. Of course it does. You're a good man. There's going to be more pain for him before he's healed, but that was a big step, him saying anything at all is a big step."

"I know that too. I'm being silly."

"Not silly. Crying is healing. You need to heal too, love."


	7. Mischief, Omegas, Alphas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that this is not "up to Mock-snuff," but I had to write something and this was what came out. My apologies. But I am going to work on the next chapter of WW and hopefully BDD this week. Those should be better. Bogged down with work stuffs, so my muse has taken a little hit, but I'm still here! Love you all. Hope you enjoy.

Next day. Dean's hair flops all over the place as he pushes up from his pillow, lines of sleep on his face. I get a big smile from behind his soother. "Daddy."

"Dean! Good morning baby." I always try to be extra exuberant in the mornings.

"Papa," he says pointing to Cas behind me.

"Morning, Butterfly."

We get him changed and dressed (to Dean's dismay) in a pair of jeans and his favorite teddy-bear t-shirt; Cas carries him downstairs, Dean keeps his head on Cas's shoulder. Cas lets him loose to play on the floor of the kitchen, while I start breakfast. Even with Cas here, I can't help keeping my eye out for Dean as I prep. Dean crawls over to the fridge where I've got alphabet magnets for him to play with. Sometimes he arranges the letters into words like 'cat' and 'dog.' His reading abilities are not so good. He can read, but not past a fourth-grade level.

Once he presented, Dad wouldn't allow him to go to school. Dad and I did all the research for hunts. Without the practice, he never improved beyond fourth grade capabilities. He can read what he needs to, but I always help him with the hard bits. It's one of the many things on my list: Help Dean improve reading ability.

All the more reason I don't want to interrupt Dean with his letters, but I've got to get into the fridge. "Excuse me, bud. Daddy has to get the eggs out," I tell him as I put my hands under his armpits and slide him far enough away from the fridge door, so I can open it. Not an unusual occurrence, but today he reacts differently. There's a moment of shock on his face, which transforms to outrage. "Hey! I was playin' that Daddy." He hucks the magnetic alphabet letter at me. Even throwing it in the "little" way he did, he's got surprising strength and accuracy. I get pelted in the head.

Cas is unimpressed. "Come talk to Papa little boy," he says sternly from the chair at the kitchen table, crooking a finger. Dean's been with Cas long enough to know Cas isn't going to hit him, but he knows he's about to get a talking to and that's enough.

Tears spring from nowhere. "B-but, I-I-I was playin' Papa. He, he, he…I want, I want…" Dean can't finish what he's trying to say, in too much hysterics. He really doesn't like being in trouble with Cas or I, so he's a mess of crying and tears.

I don't know how Cas does it, but he remains stern with his special undercurrent of softness. "I know, Dean. Come here, please. We're going to sort it all out."

Dean crawls over to Cas's feet and Cas scoops him up, letting him cry for a minute with Dean's head in his neck. I'm staring, feeling bad; like it's my fault. Cas knows what I'm thinking and shakes his head, nocking his chin toward the fridge, saying I should just keep doing what I was doing. I do. I trust that Cas has this. He's very good with Dean.

I'm still hyper-aware of the two and glance over at them every once in awhile. I feel better when the Dean crying stops. Cas wipes tears as Dean sniffles. "See? This isn't scary, is it?"

"No, Papa. Not scared. Don't wan', want you to be m-mad at me."

"I'm not mad, but I'm not pleased. Is it nice to throw things at Daddy?"

"No," Dean says paired with a headshake.

"That's right. That's what I wanted to talk with you about, to remind you. That's all. Was just a little mistake. Do you remember what you should say to Daddy?"

He nods. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay, Pumpkin pie," I call from what I'm doing. We want Dean to someday get to the point he can take a scolding in stride without us having to make a Full-House-Tanner moment out of every situation. 'Cause we do need to scold him. As much as he doesn't like it, he…likes it. Or I guess he's comforted by it. We've let things go, only to have his behavior escalate to tantrums, like he's looking for the reassurance we're there for him. Sometimes I think that's all his naughty behavior is; him acting out when he's insecure.

"Okay, Papa wants to see you being a nice boy now, otherwise we might have to have a time out."

I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. Even Cas is having a hard time remaining stern with Dean after last night. Whenever I hear Cas say, 'we might have to have a time out,' I know that means he'll be sitting on the sofa, right beside where Dean's playpen is while Dean calms down, rather than leaving him on his own.

"Not gonna have a time out, Papa."

"Okay, good." Cas doesn't sound convinced though. I think he suspects what I do, that despite Dean's happy morning wake up, there's something stirring inside him and he's going to be a ball of mischief today. "But just to be sure, let's go into the living room and play blocks so we're out of Daddy's way."

"Here, take some juice with you, Cas." One of the things I splurged on, when Cas gave me money, was a juicer. Every few days, I make a little fresh juice for Dean and I; he loves it. I toss Cas one of the bottles.

I've got the table almost set when I hear a very stern, "Dean," from beyond the kitchen door into the living room. I stealthily creep over to the door, so I can get a better view, since I only get a partial view of the living room from the kitchen.

Cas is on the floor with Dean. They're currently having a stare off. Dean's actually staring Cas down, daring him to do something about whatever it is he just did. "That's fine, Dean. Papa knows what you need."

That's how Cas wins the stare down. Dean starts crying for the second time this morning, _already,_ what's up with that? and Cas is lifting him and placing him in his playpen. Dean kneels up reaching for Cas, but Cas has already turned around and is headed over to behind the couch. When I see he's retrieved the juice bottle, I know what went down. Cas places the bottle on the coffee table and picks up Dean's soother, Dean lets Cas pop it into his mouth and slip the leather throng it's attached to around his neck, as he looks up at him with teary green eyes, doing his heartbreaking, silent cry.

"Five minutes Dean."

The two have been through this routine often enough, Dean realizes when his adorableness won't work. To my surprise, Cas doesn't stay with him and heads back toward the kitchen. Dean slinks down to rest his woeful head on the bottom of his playpen. There's always a blanket in there now.

I don't have to ask the question aloud for Cas to tell me. "Nothing happened, per se, Sam. He's just in a mischievous mood. He needs a little firmness, that's all. I think he's decided on a little toddler-brand testing due to our most recent decision."

"But I talked with him about it, he seemed fine."

"And he might have been, for the moment. Today is a new day." He threads a hand through my long hair, pulling me in for a kiss on my lips. "He'll be all right Sam. Promise."

"If you say so, Cas." Sometimes, I prefer to take Cas's lead. It's easier. I have to make so many hard decisions with Dean, I don't mind when Cas takes that load for me. I know I'm an Alpha, but Cas is like, Alpha of the Alphas, or something. I feel okay with him being more 'Alpha-y.' We both turn our heads when we hear low, displeased mutterings coming from the living room.

"Don' like it here." "Don' want time out." "Don' like Papa no more."

I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. Dean's last statement couldn't be further from the truth and the way he sounds with his pouty little mutterings… it's really cute. Cas rolls his eyes. "Guess I'm a bad guy."

"You know he'll forgive you. Soon as you go get him, he'll forget all about how mad he was at you."

We wait another three minutes, just behind the doorframe where he can't see us, listening to more mumblings from around his soother, then he's quiet. That's when Cas decides to retrieve him. "Are you ready to behave?"

Instead of what you'd expect, after all his grouchy complaints, Dean's eyes look guilty, like maybe he hopes Cas didn't hear what he said, especially since he didn't mean what he said about Cas. "Ready Papa. Please I can come out, now?"

"Of course. Especially with such pleasant manners like that." He reaches for Dean, who's all smiles for Papa after such a big compliment and Cas sets him on his hip. "Did you do some thinking?"

Dean nods twisting his hair. "Sorry, Papa. Shouldn't have thrown my juice."

Cas appraises him. "Why did you do it?"

When Dean's little (so anytime he's not hunting) he's so little it's sometimes hard to remember he's still got a comprehension level that's far more advanced than a 'real' three-year-old.

"Fru-frustrated." That's a big word.

"Right. It's Papa's job to help you with that. When you're frustrated use your words instead of throwing things."

"It's hard."

"I know that too. I'm just asking that you try. Just try. We'll work it out together."

**

We decide to take Dean to the park. Dean's smiling. The frustration of the morning seems to have dissipated. He's kicking his feet and sucking his soother, excited for the park. He's in the stroller and it reclines, so that if we have a sleepy little boy on the way home, he can close his eyes and drift off.

The park we go to was picked specifically for the kinds of parents and their omegas who frequent it. Some of the omegas are children and because I know the parents pretty well now, they don’t mind Dean playing with their kids. Some of the 'parents' have 'just-like-Dean-type' little Omegas. I always have mixed feelings about those 'parents.' Unlike Dean, the other omegas are often forced into being little. It's hard to tell if the omega is forced or not. The ones who are get good at being little, or else. It's easier to tell via the 'parent.'

Dean's excited to play. I pull him out of his stroller and he immediately gets down on his hands and knees preparing to crawl. I wince. I know many of the other parents let their little ones do it, but I don't like him doing it. I have a thing about it. I keep thinking of his poor knees in the rocks and his hands getting all dirty, the ones that often find their way to his mouth. "C'mon Peaches. Stand up. We walk at the playground, remember?"

I actually get a glare. One I'm not used to. "Don't want to Daddy." Stubbornly, he gets down on his hands and knees and crawls away. _Wow. I think he just told me off._

I know I should pull him back, use my firm Daddy voice and tell him to obey me, but some days I just can't. Stubborn Dean throws tantrums; I don't want a tantrum at the park. I shake my head, sigh and turn around to face my angel who clearly didn't like what just happened. "Sam."

"I know, Cas. But after last night and this morning—"

He shakes his head. "He's testing us Sam. I'm sure now, more than ever. Do you want to want to go speak with him, or should I?"

I'm tempted to let Cas do it, but I know I should. "I'll do it."

It's even harder now than if I'd just been stern from the get-go. Dean's already found a friend like him, who he's trying to work up the courage to speak to. He would have never even approached anyone on his own before. I've always had to coax him and play with him and whatever friend we found for him. This time, Dean's shyly found his own friend at the playground. He's a blond adult-baby. _He's_ crawling around. I turn to Cas, "my rule's probably silly, Cas. It's not a big deal."

"It is to you though, Sam."

 _Yeah it is._ This time I actually step away from Cas and make it over to my defiant little boy. I can't help but feel a little pride in him for speaking out. Dean's still got his soother in his mouth and he's staring at the other little boy, which is the universal way for little ones to make friends, so I've learned. The blond boy has a soother too, but his is dangling from his paci-clip. He's wearing a pair of overalls over what's probably a pale blue onsie. "Hi!" he says to be when I approach. "Are you his daddy?"

"I am."

"What's his name?"

"This is Dean."

"I'm Ryan. I'm pretty sure he wants to play with me, but he won't talk. Can we play Dean's daddy?"

I laugh at the little Omega. He's cute. "You can. I know Dean wants to play with you, he's just a little shy. I just have to talk with him a minute, I'll bring him right back."

"Okay."

Dean looks at me, confused, as I scoop him up, but I don't chat with him, 'till I've got him seated on top of the picnic table. I pull baby wipes out of his diaper bag and wipe down the knees of his pants, which are already soiled. He's quiet, likely realizing why I've pulled him away from the playground. "Dean, Daddy told you not to crawl on the rocks," I say as I continue to wipe. "You'll get holes in your pants and hurties on your knees."

He pulls his soother out. "Don't care, Daddy." But he's not as confident in speaking back to me, as he was a moment ago and looks at the knees I'm cleaning.

"Daddy does care." Gently I tilt his chin up to face me. "I want you to have lots of playtime with your new friend, but if I see you crawling again, you're coming back here for a time-out, understand?"

He chews on his lip, but he gives a small nod, not willing to tell me _no_ a third time, at least not while I'm this close to him. I have a feeling this war isn't over. Cas is right. "I mean it Dean Winchester." I make my voice a bit stronger and finally garner an ounce of contrition.

"I, I, wanna crawl, Daddy."

"Thank you for using your words like Papa asked you to. That's a very good job, but I'm afraid the answer's still no to crawling at the playground. When we go home, you can crawl all around the house, to your heart's content, naked even if you want." Yes, I'm bribing him. "Besides, big boys don't crawl. I thought you were a big boy now?"

He shakes his head.

"You're not?"

"No. I'm Daddy and Papa's baby."

Oh. _Oh._ "You are. You're our baby boy who walks when he's at the playground and crawls at home."

He's back to glaring again. "Would you rather just go home? You don't have to be here, Dean."

"I wanna play with that, kid."

"You do?" My heart soars hearing that.

"Funny, Daddy."

"He's funny?"

"Yeah."

"That's great, Dean. Really great." I start working on his hands. These will get dirty whether he's crawling or not, but they've already got three times the dirt than if he'd just been climbing stuff. "Okay, go play," I say when I'm done. "And keep in mind what I've said."

He doesn't answer, but he does _walk_ back toward the playground. Cas says I should always get him to answer, that way he's making a commitment and especially with Dean, he's more likely to behave once he's made that commitment, since he's both the pleaser-kind and the loyal-kind. I don't though. Cas doesn't say anything, but he did hear us and I know he disapproves. He pulls me into his side, kisses me and we watch Dean. "You're right Cas, he's testing. He's been pushing the big boy thing, now suddenly, he's our baby."

Cas smiles huge. I'm freaking out, thinking he's getting worse, reverting to his more baby-like behaviors and he's smiling. Great. Only, if I think about it, it doesn't quite _feel_ the same as it did. "This is a good thing Sam. He's making sure he has a place with us. Let him work it out. We've got to be the same as we always were. Firm, but gentle and loving."

"You think, Cas?"

"I know."

We snuggle into each other and watch Dean with his new friend. I'm so proud he's done it all by himself. But sure enough, as time passes, I see him getting to his knees again. "Dean," I call sharply to remind him. He looks back, thinks on it for a second, then wisely decides to get back on his feet. I know it's hard, since his friend is crawling around, he's still wondering why he's not allowed; my explanation not good enough for him.

To make sure I know what he's thinking, he points to his new friend. "I can see that he's crawling, that's for Ryan's daddy to decide. Do you need Daddy to help you remember our rules?" I say, just loud enough for him to hear, but gentle, so he knows I'm not angry. It's a common enough phrase to say to your omega, but it means different things from different alphas.

"No, Daddy! Don't need help." Unlike me, Dean is annoyed. He turns back to his friend after that, but at least he's bipedal.

"You should really get a handle on your omega," says a new voice. "Else I'm not going to be able to allow my Ryan to play with yours."

My feathers are ruffled. Clearly this 'parent' is not a 'parent,' but an _owner_ type. I can already tell this isn't going to work and it breaks my heart, Dean likes Ryan. I attempt to assuage this man, only for Dean. "I'm sorry. He's normally very well-behaved. He had a rough night is all."

"I'm Josh. Ryan's mine. I'm sorry, too, for being a dick. I'm just very protective of him."

"Where did you get him?" I'm not good at the usual Alpha-Alpha small talk, because I don't like it. I don't like talking about Omegas like we pick them up from a store.

"Ryan's special. A friend of the family's younger brother. Had my eye on him a long time." At least he seems to genuinely adore Ryan. "How about you two?"

"Dean's my brother. I became family-Alpha when our father died. Cas adopted him." The adoption hasn't gone through yet, but Josh doesn't need to know that. Speaking of Cas, he's tense.

"Whoa, I misjudged you. That's extra kinky. Keeping your brother. You planning on breeding him?"

I'm going to kill him, I'm about to kill Josh, but then I hear something beautiful, something I hardly ever hear: Dean's laughing. I look over and Ryan is doing silly things, for Dean to laugh at. I reason that this guy just has some old-school beliefs, but Ryan wouldn't act like that if he was the sort of down-trodden Omega, old-school Alphas usually train their Omegas to be. _I can't figure these two out._ "No. No plans for breeding. Dean's not really into sex." At least far as I know. I'm not exactly sure to be honest, but that's all the explanation Josh is getting.

"So? Does it matter? Omegas don't have to like it. I mean, I prefer my Ryan to like it, but even if he didn't—"

"Okay, Josh," Cas interjects. Thankfully. Cas is much better than I am at shmoozing. Especially when I just want to tell this guy to ram a dick wrapped in sandpaper down his throat. "It appears that we have different political views. We're also a bit private about that sort of thing, would it be all right if we moved the conversation in a new direction?"

"Yeah, I get it. Privacy, but I just want to make sure my Ryan is safe hanging out with your Dean."

"We assure you he is."

"I don't want him hanging out with misbehaved Omegas then coming home and thinking he can act like that. Then I'd have to punish him; I hate punishing him."

Maybe it's true that he feels that way. It's so hard to say nowadays. We've come a long way from the archaic views of the past, when Omegas were kept in kennels, but consequently, more confusion has been created surrounding Omegas as a sex. Now, people are left to take on their own views; you get some pretty mutated ideas. Still better. Except the laws. Many of the laws are still not in favor of Omegas. "Ah, well on that we can agree. I'm Castiel and this is my partner, Sam." Cas shakes his hand, but I can't bring myself to offer mine. Cas is always warning me not get too into politics with others and hold their views against them, but it's hard. Sometimes they're just misguided he says and I tell him, his angel is showing. That's his angel talking. Thinking humans like Josh can be saved. Can change. I'm too bitter for that kind of optimism.

Cas does succeed in smoothing the conversation over and I'm glad. Dean's still having a good time. I've never seen him have such a good time with another kid. I want to be able to continue the friendship. Things are good enough with Josh, we call the kids in for lunch and set up at the picnic table. Dean's ecstatic. He's not saying much, but I can see it in his eyes. He's proud of himself for making a friend and he likes his friend. He keeps looking at me, knowing how happy that's going to make me, so I work hard to hide all my apprehension, giving him the big smile of approval I know he's looking for.

Dean's kicking his feet and working on his sandwich. Ryan's still doing things to make him laugh, Josh doesn't seem to mind. After lunch, both boys need diaper changes; we take turns using the picnic table, to change our larger babies and send them off to play. I couldn't help but notice that Ryan was wearing a cock cage. I also couldn't help but check for signs of redness and chaffing. He appeared fine, but I'm certain it's not Ryan's choice to wear it. I disagree with that. It was hard not to say anything or at least inquire.

But other than his views on politics and gender, Josh is an okay guy. He donates to orphans and recycles. I still don't like him. I make nice though, hoping to score a play date for Dean. This is a big deal.

We're not really paying attention to the kids, but when I do look to check, cheeky Dean Winchester is crawling around with his friend. He must have been doing it awhile; his jeans are half destroyed. "Please excuse me guys." I hate having to punish Dean, but on the one hand, I'm glad Josh will see me in action. He can see I don't let Dean get away with murder (thought technically I do) and maybe he'll feel comfortable letting Ryan come over.

Dean sees me coming and scrambles to his feet. I keep my hard-nosed look and pluck him up. "What did Daddy say?"

"I, I, forgot."

He's already got tears. It's hard, but I sit him at the picnic table. "Five minutes, Dean."

I think it's all going to be fine, like usual, but Dean decides to have a fit. "I want to play! Don't want a time-out!"

I can feel Josh's judge-y eyes on me. "You were warned, Mister." I don't mention that it was twice. Of course Dean picks now, to really protest and like never before. He gets off the bench where I placed him and tries stomping away. I have to pick him up screaming and kicking, to set him back down on the picnic bench. There are more eyes on me than just Josh's now and I feel some of that embarrassment parents feel when their child is misbehaving.

It's starting to get close to the time Dean normally takes his nap. I was thinking about skipping it today, since he was playing, so well, but he's clearly cranky. That combined with everything else going on, is a Dean-ticking-time-bomb, one that's just gone off, but not everyone here is going to understand that. Especially not Josh. "Dean, you're going to sit and have your time-out, or I'm going to think it's time to go home for naptime."

"No! N-not havin' nap today, Daddy! Not doin' time-out. I'm playin' with Ryan how I want to!"

I crouch down between his knees and grab his hands, squeezing firmly, but lovingly and remembering what Cas said about being the same, showing him we're the same, no matter the changes with Cas and I. I forget about everyone else, including Josh. He might not let Dean play with Ryan anymore, might think I'm a soft parent, but I have to give Dean what he needs no matter what, even if this costs him his new friend.

I use my strict Alpha voice, the version I know calms Dean. "You don't make the rules, Daddy does. You're sitting here until you calm down, then it's five minutes for time-out, then you can go play for a bit more with your friend, then we're going home because I'm starting to have a tired boy."

"B-bu-but—"

"If you can't calm down, we'll go home to have time-out now."

"D-don-don't want to got home."

"Can you calm down for me?"

"Ye-yess."

"Okay then. I'll tell you when five minutes starts. You work on calming down." I stand and ruffle his hair. He nods and wipes his eyes with the back of his hands. I pop his soother back in, the one that's fallen out of his mouth to rest against his chest, hanging from the handy leather thong I use sometimes instead of the paci-clip like Ryan's.

When I leave the little world I was in when I was taking care of Dean, I see there aren't as many eyes on me as I thought, but I was right about Josh. He's staring. Surprised. I'm surprised too. Ryan must have crawled to him in the time it took me to talk to Dean. He's sucking his soother, the one attached to his shirt, looking ready for a nap too, curled into Josh. "Wow, that actually works with Omegas?"

 _Can he really not know?_ "Yeah. All the time. He's just having a bad day. Your Ryan really helped him today." I check in on Dean who's staring intently at me, even though his papa is closer to him. "Okay Dean, five minutes starts now. Remember to think about why you're having a time-out."

He sucks his soother, nods and continues to look at me.

I turn my attention back to Josh. "That's how we deal with Dean. I know it's different than you handle your Omega, but I hope that doesn't stop you letting the boys play together."

He appraises Dean, who's looking up at me _too_ adoringly. I'd almost rather him throw a fit than go back to him looking at me like that. Josh likes it though. It satisfies him. He nods. "They can play again. You're right, I don't agree with your methods, but it seems to work for him."

When five minutes are over, I'm watched again, Josh bizarrely fascinated, as Dean and I chat. "You clear about the rules, little boy?"

"No crawling at the playground."

"Why?"

"Hurts my knees and gets my pants all dirty."

"That's right. Thanks Peaches. Go play." I give his bum a little pat as he hops off the bench. Josh lets Ryan down, I notice he immediately goes to his hands and knees. _That poor little boy's knees._

"It doesn't hurt their knees though, you're just telling him that, so he'll listen."

"Try it."

"Well yeah, it'll hurt me. I'm an Alpha. We're more sensitive to that kind of stuff."

"The Omega Right's groups think Omegas are more sensitive."

"They're a bunch of patchouli-sniffing hippies."

I shrug at him. "Try it then." If I have to listen to Josh and his 'political views' any longer…

Cas slips his hand into mine. "I think it's time to go babe. I'll go get our butterfly, you pack up the stroller."

"You're real interesting, Sam. Here." He hands me a business card. "Much as I think you're crazy for your methods, Dean doesn’t seem like he'll be a bad influence. Call me if you'd like to do a play date or something."

Score. Dean's going to be so happy. _I'm going to have to figure out how to not constantly feel like murdering the bastard._

It doesn't take long for Cas to come walking up to me with a sleepy looking boy in his arms who's rubbing his eyes and whining a little. "Wanna play, Papa."

"Wow. He's a strong one," Josh winks at me, referring to Cas. "Come on Ryan."

Ryan barrels over to Josh, still on hands and knees, Josh scoops him up. "Bye, Dean!" Ryan says to our cranky baby.

"Aren't you going to say bye to your friend?" Cas prompts.

"Bye Ryan," he says then turns his head into Cas.

And I swear I hear Josh ask Ryan as they walk away, "if his knees hurt?"

**

As predicted, Dean falls asleep in his stroller on the way home. Cas takes him up to his bed and I collapse on the couch. This morning has proved to be more exhausting than usual. When Cas comes down, I'm thinking about all the laundry I should be doing, trying to will myself to move, but can't. Cas slumps beside me; I sink into him.

"I wanted to tear that guy's head off."

That wasn't me; that was Cas. I'm just as shocked as anyone. "What happened to diplomacy?"

"I don't like how he was talking, or looking at Dean. I don't want Dean alone with that man, ever."

"No problems there. Neither do I. That _had_ to be the first friend Dean makes," I say sarcastically. "The Alpha's a creep. Poor Ryan."

I feel Cas's phone vibrate in his pants underneath me. He pulls it out to check it. "That was my lawyer."

Knowing Cas, the lawyer is probably also an angel. "Yeah?"

"Everything's a go. I can officially adopt Dean."


	8. The Most Perfect-Unperfect Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh where oh where has Mocky gone, oh where oh where can she be?"
> 
> Here I am. I went on an unintentional break! But I've been working on a few things story-wise so not to worry. 
> 
> One of the biggest things I'm working on is a TS for GUW involving Team Daddies leaving Dean with his Uncle Dally. It, as per usual, ended up way longer than I had intended. It's up near 10K, so uh, yeah. I've got more work to do on it to make it up to snuff. After that it's WW and BDD and FY. 
> 
> For now enjoy this! This chapter, you can thank your friendly, neighborhood LW for. That's Lizard Wispherer AKA the picto-Queen!! (Go have a look around in the comments of my fics, she gives me so much picto-love and they're hilarious!) She came up with quite a few sweet things in this chapter. I don't want to *spoil* so I'll just say that much of the creative genius in the Wedding scene was via her suggestion, with a little Mock thrown in. The angst and antics are completely my fault. 
> 
> Sastiel sex-scene inspired by a Tumblr gif!
> 
>  **Warning:** The scene in the beginning has content that may be tough to read. I don't know exactly how to warn for it. We know by now that Dean is a character who has been sexually abused. The content is of that nature, but I don't go into detail at all and I felt it tasteful. I leave it vague on purpose and I'm likely going to continue in that manner. The reader can fill in the blanks--y'all are smart, I trust you. Even still, I thought I'd just mention.

I look at the paper on the wall. Daddy hung it there. It means Cas is my papa. I kneel up from my place on the ground and stand on my knees so I can see it better. The letters are so shiny, printed in deep, red waxy ink. I can't help but reach out to touch them. "Dean," I hear Papa's deep voice say. "Are you supposed to touch that?"

I may have ripped the corner a little bit already. "P-pretty, Papa."

Papa seems so large as he comes over to scoop me up. He's got a big smile and lots of tickle-ly kisses for my belly. I giggle and bury my face into his neck. "Don't touch it, you," he says.

I don't know why Papa's so nice to me, but he is. Daddy's always been nice to me, he's just…my always, but Papa doesn't have to be. Except he is. I reach up to rub my eyes. "I think it's time for a nap," Papa says.

I can usually get out of naps with Daddy, but not Papa. I still try. "I don't wa-wasn', I don't want to have a nap. Not tired Papa."

He's already walking up the stairs with me. Papa's really strong. He doesn't struggle at all carrying me, it's like he's gliding on ice. "You know butterfly, tomorrow's a really big day. There's a chance you might have to miss your nap tomorrow. I want you to be all caught up on sleep."

"I will sleep early tonight, Papa."

He's still walking. When we reach my room, he grabs a diaper and lays me on the bed. I twist and twist and twist my hair. I wish he'd say something. It's scary when they don't. Papa slips my jogging pants all the way off and un-tapes my diaper. Papa usually blows raspberries on my belly, but he doesn't now. I check his face, he's still smiling, I think that means good. I put my thumb in my mouth.

"Oh? Did you want some of these?" he says and leans in, pushing up my shirt and blows on my belly. I grab his hair, giggling.

"Papa!'

"I just didn't want to rile you up before sleepy-time."

I suck my thumb and feel a bit better, but I still need to watch him. _Papa won't hurt me… Papa won't hurt me… Papa won't hurt me…_

He's concerned about me now. I can tell. He's trying not to show it, but it's there. "I'm going to clean you up, okay?"

I nod. He's careful cleaning me up, wiping down my special parts. He doesn't hurt me, or them. I don't exactly worry that he will, but I just have scared feelings in my tummy. Today a single tear falls from my eye. Sometimes it happens when he has to change me and sometimes it doesn't. I don't want to be scared, but I am. I trust Papa, I just have these feelings without wanting to.

He applies cream, so I don't get a rash and slips the new diaper on me. "There, all set. How about Papa let's you sleep in just your diaper?"

I like that. I don't like having itchy clothes on. _Naked_ doesn't bother me, just _touching._ But I'd much rather Daddy or Papa clean me up than do it myself. I don't want to touch anything down there. It's too scary. I don't like to say why, it just is. "I like that, Papa."

"I know you do, butterfly." He takes a soother off the dresser, nudges my thumb out of my mouth and pops the soother in then sits me up and pulls my t-shirt off. He swoops me up, so he can pull the covers back. I wriggle under them and squish my toes in the sheets.

Papa wipes my face with a soft dry cloth and hops on the bed beside me, pulling me to his chest. I feel safe. I snuggle in like he he's a pillow and latch onto his jacket. I like the way Papa's scent smells. I reach out with my own special smell and scent him like Daddy said I could. He and Daddy are mine. I scent them often, so they don't forget.

Papa returns my gift of scent with his own, I bask in it, comforted. Calm. "There, now close your eyes."

He starts playing with my hair how I like. "Papa, we're gonna get married tomorrow?"

He chuckles. "Yep, we're all going to get married tomorrow."

Daddy and I had lots of talks. I don't really get what's going on tomorrow. I know what married is, kinda. Except I thought it meant that Daddy and Papa start their lives together. Alone. I didn't know it could include me. Daddy assured me it does. He told me getting married means we're going to be a family, officially. I asked if that meant I'm getting married too. He tousled my hair with his big Daddy smile and said, "Yeah baby boy. We're all getting married."

I still find it confusing, but they seem pretty happy about it. So long as they keep me, I'll do whatever they want. "C'mon Dean, close your eyes and go to sleep."

Except that.

"Pa-Papa. I doesn't want to," I say rubbing my eyes. I don't like going to sleep.

"I know, but you're so tired, butterfly. How about Papa sings you the special song?"

"'Kay." I move my hand from rubbing my eyes to twisting my hair.

" _Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep little baby. When you wake, you will have, all the pretty little horses."_

Papa keeps singing and singing, in that gruff, rough voice of his. He brings his hand to mine, the one twisting and twisting my hair and gently unthreads my fingers from the locks. When my hand is out of my hair, he puts his there, but instead of twisting, it's a slow, methodic pulling, which tugs ever so gently at the roots, causing my scalp to tingle pleasantly. Between that and the singing, it's no wonder my eyelids start to flutter and I drift off to sleep.

**

"How did you get him down, Cas? I really didn't think he'd go."

Cas smiles, proud of himself. "Wasn't too hard. Did you get it?"

"Right here." I hold up the bag that contains Dean's tux. "I hope it fits."

"Is there a reason it shouldn't?"

"Um, how about I took the measurements and I'm not a fucking seamstress?" There was no way Dean would have let anyone else, but Cas, or I touch him for that. As it was, I knew Dean was going to be a terror; he's not statue of the year. I decided to power through myself, rather than make Cas.

Cas's eyes crinkle fondly. "He told me we were all getting married tomorrow." He grabs me by the collar of my shirt with two hands and presses a firm kiss to my lips.

"Yeah," I say breathy. "I don't think he'll be fully soothed until he sees we're not going to dump him, he's still on and off with being 'extra' little. When he asked if he's getting married too, I just told him yeah."

"Whatever makes him feel better is fine with me. I like it. It's not untrue. We're officially telling everyone we're a family; that's a marriage of sorts."

"How long ago did you put him to sleep?"

"An hour."

"He'll be up soon, I should get a start on dinner."

I head up the stairs to the bedroom and hang up Dean's tux. Cas follows me. He's not wearing his coat, the one he seems to wear even when it's hot out. It's just him in a white long-sleeved button-up and a pair of black slacks. Blue tie. Hungry eyes.

He grabs me from behind and flips us so we're facing the mirror then he tugs me again slamming my body into his. I reach back and loop my arm around the back of his head. He's sucking on my ear. I close my eyes and lean my head back, offering my neck to him. He sucks on that hard and licks his tongue along the skin.

He opens the first three buttons of the red, checkered, short-sleeve flannel I'm wearing, exposing my nipples. Cas rubs his hand over my abs then circles up over my nipples. My dick is hard and so is Cas's judging by the steel rod shoving at my ass. I moan and loll my head, so he can nip at the other side of my neck and enjoy the feeling of his strong hands on me. I want them everywhere and move trying to make that happen.

"Open your eyes, Sam."

I do to see his dark, lust-filled eyes in the mirror, peeking around my neck, drinking me in. "I want you to see how gorgeous you are when you come." He unbuttons and unzips my jeans and pulls out my cock.

I lean back against him as my legs begin to feel like dry sand; heavy and unable to stand by itself. I know he said to watch the mirror, but I want to kiss him. I angle my head just enough, I can latch onto his mouth with mine and slide my tongue to join with his. He opens my shirt the rest of the way and circles his hand over my stomach, over my ribs and tweaks my nipple as we kiss.

His hand is back down to my balls, fondling them with a few tugs on my dick. He leaves it again, letting it poke out of my pants, standing at attention beside his hand pressed flat against my pelvis, a tease for what he could be doing. His other hand is roaming all over me again. "Please, Cas."

My dick's dry save the few drops of pre-come leaking from it, but I'm so horny, he won't be tugging on me long enough chaffe. I watch him in the mirror, fascinated by the way his dark messy hair falls over his brow, turned on by him watching me in return and smooth my hand down the back of his neck, fucking into his hand. "Watch," he says, feeling me get close already. A couple of pumps and I'm coming all over his hand, my eyes wide open; for just a second, my teeth tug at my bottom lip then my mouth freezes in a large 'O' as my body convulses.

I groan, happy and smile, leaning back to kiss him again, sighing into his mouth. "What about you, Cas? You want me to—"

He spins me and pushes me belly first onto the bed, my come smears all over the sheets. "Oh? Did you think I was done with you?"

Wedding Day

Dean is a mess of tears as I try to fight him into his cute little tux. "Don', don'…I don't wanna wear that Daddy!" Fat tears roll down his red cheeks as he sits on the bed in the black dress pants and white button-up I wrestled him into. He refuses to let me put the jacket or tie on him.

"Don't you want to be like Daddy and Papa? We're wearing the same thing."

"No-oo-ooh!"

"C'mon baby boy, just for pictures and the ceremony then we'll take it right off."

He cries the whole time I put the blue vest on him, but settles to sniffles by the time I've finally got the jacket on him. "There. You look so good, sweetheart."

He's not pleased, but he lets me pop his soother into his mouth. Cas comes in with a warm cloth and hands it to me to wipe his face. "What's with all the tears?" Cas says.

"This isn't nice, Papa."

"Why?"

Dean pulls at the collar in answer. He doesn't like clothes, he finds them too restrictive in the first place, the tux is even more limiting. "You've got to look nice for the wedding little one."

Dean looks at me with his big, pleading green eyes. Much as I wanted to see him with the cornflower blue bowtie we got him, I don't want Dean to be completely miserable. I undo the first few buttons of his shirt and skip the bowtie. "How's that Peaches?"

"G-good," he says behind his soother. "Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Here you go, buddy, hug your pal." Cas got him a stuffed bunny recently, which he's scented and he'll continue to scent; something to comfort Dean when Cas goes away. Dean accepts him gratefully and rubs his cheek against the soft faux-fur of his pal, Bun-bun.

"You ready to go Sam?"

"Yeah, just have to run a brush through my hair."

"Then I should take the baby. We might be here awhile, huh Dean?"

Making fun of me gets Dean to smile. "Is Papa funny?" I say.

He squeezes Bun-bun. "Yeah."

Cas lifts Dean into his arms. "I'll get him in the car, baby."

**

"Remind me why we picked the beach?" I ask Cas.

"Something about your parents getting married on a beach."

"If I get anymore whims like that, it's officially your job to stop me."

Dean refused to walk down the isle even though he's the ring bearer and our best man and after making him wear a tux, I couldn't bring myself to be strict with him on that. Besides, the tux is rented. It's going back. Despite getting what he wanted, Dean's cranky and miserable. It's closer to the time he would be getting ready to have his nap and as much as Dean doesn't think he needs naps, he really does.

He's having a hard time sitting still and the sitting is being done at my and Cas's feet with a Minister in front of us.

The ceremony is small. Dean and I don't have a lot of friends. From our side it's just Jo and Ellen, Charlie and another hunter friend of ours, Benny. Bobby is here with us in spirit.

Cas has family members he was obligated to invite, all of whom I've never met. He said it would cause a family dispute, we don't want to start if we didn't invite them, but that he wasn't keen on them attending.

"But I thought Angels didn't get married?" I asked. I couldn't figure out why they'd care to attend in the first place.

"We don't, but we do have a mating ritual of sorts. My brothers understand that this is the human equivalent. They will want to be present."

Along with his family joining us, came other "obligatory" guests Cas's eldest brother, Michael, said we had to invite. It was interesting how readily Cas jumped to all of Michael's requests, if apologetically to me. I didn't mind at all. Cas said I might regret not minding.

Only his brothers, Michael, Gabriel and Balthazar, are here for the ceremony, but later, for the reception, (Michael insisted we have) there are roughly eighty angels coming. Seeing as that was happening, I invited some of the community for later too, (the ones who had helped me and Dean, as well as Josh and Ryan) to the reception. I thought it would be nice for Dean to have someone to play with, but unfortunately, they couldn't make it.

So here we are, Jo, Ellen and Jo's daughter, little Ellie (Ellie's dad was a hunter like Jo and died on a hunt before he could meet Ellie who's two now) on one side and Cas's three brothers on the other, with Dean complaining at our feet; whiney, growl-y mutterings. "…don't like wearin' this…too hot Daddy…want some juice Papa…" all the while getting sand all over his nice tux.

I smile at Cas, because Dean's complaints are adorable. _He's,_ adorable. They're just low enough the Minister can still carry on with the ceremony. A little Omega, or child crying and acting up is common enough at weddings; I can see little Ellie getting fussy too in her gramma's arms.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean swishing his hand in the dirt to occupy himself. His legs are sprawled in a wide 'V'. I can't help but wonder what Cas's fastidious looking family members are thinking. Do they agree with the side of the population that thinks I should 'have firmer control over my omega?' It's hard to say. They don't look angry over his behavior; their expressions are impassive.

We're about to head into the 'I dos' portion of the vows, when Dean tugs on the arm of my white tux jacket, oblivious to the fact that there's a ceremony going on around him. "Daddy, you can change my diaper?"

I'm embarrassed for two heartbeats, but everyone, including Cas's family, bursts out with laughter. Fond laughter. Not the 'making-fun-of him' kind. Cas reaches down to scoop him up. "C'mere butterfly. You're getting all dirty down there anyway. Besides you can't marry us from down there, can you?"

Dean looks at his papa with little boy wonderment, his eyes heavy, looking sleepy, but happy to be in Papa's arms. "How 'bout you give those rings to Daddy now?" Cas suggests to Dean who's still holding tight to the ring pillow.

"No, it's mine."

More laughter. _He's fricking cute._ I didn't think we were getting that pillow back anyway. Dean really liked it when I gave it to him and I knew he'd take the job of 'protecting' the rings I gave him seriously.

"You can keep the pillow, Dean. I'll just take the rings, okay?" I say.

Dean sucks his soother harder and a telltale hand moves up to his hair to twist. "Good boy," I say as he holds the pillow out with his other hand and lets me untie the rings from the pillow.

When that's done, Dean hides his face in Cas's neck, using the ring pillow like a regular pillow. Cas starts rocking him side-to-side. From my angle, I can see that his eyes are still open and looking right at me, so I proceed to say my vows as the Minister prompts me.

"Don', don' want to sleep Papa," Dean whimpers quietly around his soother into Cas's ear.

"Shhh little one, Daddy's talking," Cas whispers. "You don't have to sleep, just rest your eyes."

Dean obeys Cas readily and by the time the Minister announces us as husband and husband, Dean's fast asleep on Cas's shoulder, his sweet baby-like cheek resting on the silky-white pillow. Cas and I kiss anyway, more PG than we would if Cas wasn't holding Dean, but it's a perfect kiss. I'm happier than I've been in a long time.

Cas kisses Dean's crown.

**

"Daddy! I want, I want, Da-ahh-dy."

"Okay baby, Daddy's coming," I say hearing him from where Cas is standing outside the washroom. I shake my dick off quickly, wash my hands and go to retrieve my baby who's diving for me, soon as I hit the doorframe.

We were getting ready to head to the reception. It was supposed to be pictures first, but I don't foresee that exercise going too well with Dean in this mood. He slept for exactly ten minutes on Cas's shoulder, the clapping and cheering jolting him awake. He was not pleased and began crying for me then, but I suddenly had to piss really bad, so Cas and I ran off to the beach's restroom together.

I pull Dean into my arms. "C'mon, what's all the fuss about?"

He rubs his face into my shoulder, scenting me over and over, so I release pheromones in return that envelope him and make him feel safe. I rub his back and let him whimper. "It's okay, it's going to be okay." He's unresponsive to that, still scenting repeatedly. There's no way I can go out there with this much Omega scent on me, it'll drive the rest the other Alphas on the beach crazy.

"I don't think we can do pictures now Cas, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. We'll do them later at the reception and uh, maybe now's the appropriate time to notify you, Michael invited all of the cousins, he just told me moments ago."

With Dean's cries getting louder and scenting stronger, I can't care about a few extra angel-guests. "That's fine Cas, just, grab the diaper bag for me and uh, get rid of everyone? Tell them to head to the reception."

"Done husband mine."

And just like that, Cas uses his magic to make me smile amidst the chaos.

**

I've got Dean laid out on the family restroom's table which fits him and holds him via the help of my new angel husband who dropped the diaper bag with me and left to sort out our guests. I remove my tux jacket and get down to work, changing Dean as he cries. I begin by removing his black pants. "Did you have a little dream while you were asleep on Papa?" I say, knowing he did.

"Uh-huh."

"It was a bad one, wasn't it baby boy?"

He nods sucking his soother hard, tears streaming; face red. "You were gone. H-he-h-h-h-h—"

Dean's about to start hyperventilating. I halt taking off his pants. "Dean. Listen to my voice. It's Sammy. _Daddy._ I'm here. I'm here. C'mon, breathe with me, kay? Breathe with Daddy."

He does. We breathe together, "that's it, good boy," a full sixteen breaths and he calms down, finally halting the tears and the scenting, but it still lingers in the family restroom. I release a strong batch of my own for him and this time, it visibly relaxes him.

I return to changing him, untaping his diaper. "Guess what? We're all married now. Cas is Daddy's husband now and you're our special Omega. Our special boy."

He thinks about that while I set about getting him in a new diaper. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, Peaches?"

"No naptime today, okay?"

I can't help chuckling at that. I know it's because he's scared to fall back asleep and have whatever horrible dream about Dad he just did, which is not good, but I know there's that little boy part of him that'll bathe in the victory of having conned Daddy out of yet another naptime. "No naptime today." I push back his hair, which is long in front now and lean in to kiss his forehead.

When we're all finished, we head out to the busy beach where Cas is waiting for us. I hand Cas the diaper bag and both our tux jackets. "We're too hot for those. I don't know why we thought tuxes on the beach was a good idea."

He smiles. "The Impala is ready, waiting for us. Everyone's gone to the reception hall."

We brought the Impala with the hopes of getting pictures with it. Otherwise, Cas could've flown us everywhere today. "He okay?" he asks softly, not wanting to disturb Dean who's got his head on my shoulder and probably fighting sleep.

"Yeah, he'll be okay. He just needs some Daddy time."

"And no naps today, Papa," Dean informs him, making sure Papa's up to speed on the nap-status.

"Papa knows. No naps. We got married today, let's go celebrate becoming a family."

**

Dean is clingy. The clingiest he's been is ages. I don't blame him. The few extra guests number somewhere in the hundreds; he doesn't like lots of people, let alone this many _angels_. Even Cas is uneasy about this many angels near his new family, so he's up and about like a guard dog while I contend with the cranky-needs-a-nap-baby, who's also, pissed-off-to-be-wearing-clothes-baby and hates-being-around-this-many-angels-baby. The hunter inside him is growling some, but he's been through too much emotionally to leave his little headspace, thankfully. That's all we need, Dean going hunter on an army of angels.

I'll take the clingy baby any day.

"Daddy, I wanna go home."

"I know. Me too. Soon." We both know I'm stretching the truth on that one. We're going to be here awhile yet and with Dean in the mood he's in, plus Cas in the mood he's in, it's going to be a long evening for everyone. Dean curls into me, pouting and hiding his face from the crowd. I reach into the diaper bag and pull out Bun-bun. Dean latches onto him gratefully, just as we're joined by one of Cas's brothers who sits in Cas's chair.

"Wow, you are bigger in person, Sasquatch. I'm Gabriel. The middle child, well I guess Balthy and I are both middle children, but I was first. Cassie's our baby."

"Hello Gabriel," I say.

"This must be the Omega."

"His name is Dean," I say defensively. I don't care what Cas's family's opinions are. They're not talking about Dean that way, especially in front of him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Looks like I've faux-pas-ed already. Cas refuses to talk about you guys too much. It's all I really know about the kid except for the information I needed to know to help Cas human-adopt him."

"Sorry, Gabriel. I'm, protective."

"Got that, but you don't need to worry about me, no matter what Castiel tells you. Worry about Michael."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

"Anyway, I just wanted to meet the kidd-o while Cassie was prowling around. I enjoyed watching him at the ceremony. He's cute."

"I'm not cute," Dean says, taking out his soother and laying a firm glare on, huh, his new uncle I guess.

"That's the thing Dean-o, it's a matter of opinion and mine is, you're cute as a button."

This is actually a good thing, Dean being pissed at his _uncle_ Gabriel. He can channel his frustrations at someone and from the looks of it, I don't think Gabriel minds. He thinks Dean's funny. "No!"

Gabriel laughs. "He's a riot."

"No! Go away."

"Is that anyway to talk to your uncle Gabriel?" he teases.

"Daddy, he's 'noying me."

I can't help but agree with Gabriel. He is pretty darn cute when he's like this. I smile over Dean's head, running fingers through his hair as he pops his soother back in, hiding into me again. "Okay, okay. I'll come back later," Gabriel says. If there's anything that can cheer little boys up, it's cake. Maybe you'll be more agreeable after cake." Gabriel winks at me and excuses himself.

When he's gone, Dean perks up. "Daddy, I get to have cake?"

I laugh. "Yeah, you do my darling. You ready sit in your own chair yet?" My leg is falling asleep.

"No."

I sigh. "Okay, you let me know when you're ready."

Cas finally comes back when the meal is served. The meal feels ridiculous. The only ones eating are the humans. Well eating _and_ enjoying I should say. The angels, attempt to be polite and eat, but only take a few bites, and are mostly pushing the food around on their plates, disgusted. I'm just glad I'm not paying for this. Cas assured me that Michael insisted he pay for the entire wedding, which I was fine with. All I wanted was the beach ceremony, this was all Michael's idea; he can fork out the dough.

Dean's not enjoying his food either. I'm trying and failing to get anything in him. "Don't like those broccolis, Daddy."

"Okay, but you like carrots. Eat your carrots please."

I fork one up to his lips. "No."

"Okay, no vegetables, just for today, but you like meatloaf." I try to fork a bite of meatloaf into his mouth, but he shakes his head and pushes it away, the gravy-soaked bit of meat falls onto the bib he's wearing.

"Juice, Daddy," he demands, but instead of waiting for me to pass him his glass, which is an actual glass versus the sippy cups he usually drinks out of, he grabs it himself and even though he does it with two hands, it's like there's a hole in his lip when he drinks it and orange-mango juice spills all down his bib and to his white shirt. It's ruined and Cas can see my patience is running thin.

I've been dealing with a cranky baby all day without a break, since he won't go to Cas; won't even sit in his own chair.

Cas is seething beside me. Not at Dean, but at his family. He clearly hadn't expected this. As Cas usually does, he puts us first and takes care of Dean's shirt with a wave of his angel-mojo. He reaches into Dean's diaper bag and brings out a bottle, which Dean is happy to see reaching grabby hands for it gratefully. I feel relief when he pops it into his mouth and finally stops complaining. Cas runs a hand through my hair simultaneously pushing Dean's plate out of my way and pushing mine closer.

"Eat, baby. I'm going to go take care of some things."

My heart drops. I don't want him to go, but I understand he has to. "Okay, Cas. Will you be back soon?"

"I'll try Baby." He kisses my lips and he's gone. We haven't seen much of each other, considering it's supposed to be 'our day.'

I concentrate on eating as Dean sucks his bottle and looks up at me with big green eyes. He reaches his hand to my hair and starts to play with it. "You're lucky you're so cute."

When the dinner is thankfully over, Cas still isn't back and my scan of the crowd for him comes up negative. Dean's in a slightly better mood, but he still won't sit in his chair. Instead, Michael sits in it. His vessel is a long, lean one. He's as good looking as the rest of the angels, maybe more so, but he's not exactly my type. There's something ominous about him. Something you don't fuck with. He controls what's in his domain and apparently that now includes Dean and me. But there's something assuring about it too. It's not malevolent care. I've no doubt he's unconventional in the way he goes about that, or I guess he's unconventional by human definition. Likely his ways are perfectly angelceptable. "Hello Samuel," he says.

"Nice to meet you, sir." That slipped out. Fuck. I can't help it though. He seems militant, like Dad, but thankfully, for Dean's sake, the similarities to Dad end there.

"Respectful. Good. I like that, but you may call me Michael."

Then he stares at Dean. Dean stares back, a small scowl in his eyes. Michael's stare is purely interest with maybe a side of analytics; Dean's is filled with fascination and a side of threat. _Hurt my daddy and die slowly…_ That's different…

Finally, after forever, Dean holds his Bun-bun out to Michael. "What's this?" Michael says.

"Bun-bun," Dean answers.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"S-say hi. He said he wants to meet you."

Michael eyes the floppy-eared bunny toy suspiciously, but he catches on to what's happening. _While I can hardly believe what's happening._ Dean _wants_ to meet Michael. "Hello." Michael shakes Bun-bun's paw. "You smell funny."

"He smells like Papa."

"Then I was right."

Dean giggles. Fuck finally. "So, Mr. Bun-bun, are you Dean's bouncer? Do I have to get through you, to say hello to Dean?"

"He, he likes you," Dean says shyly.

"The rabbit? Or you? This game is confusing."

Dean laughs again. The gruff one that's still somehow little.

"Enough. I've been watching you and I wanted to make your acquaintance. You caused quite the stir at the ceremony."

"Had a bad dream," he shares with his new friend.

"I was referring to before that when you were mucking about in the sand, but you had a bad dream you say?"

Dean nods and pulls Bun-bun close.

"That's unacceptable. May I see 'Bun-bun' for a moment?"

Dean's apprehensive, but he gives his friend over to Michael. Michael holds Bun-bun and puts a hand over the rabbit's forehead, there's a surge of blue light that seeps into the rabbit then he hands it back to Dean. "Make sure when you sleep, it's with him close by. Look for him when you're dreaming. He'll keep you safe; he'll always bring you home. I do suggest you do something about his smell."

I don't know what Michael just did to the thing, but I'll have to wait and have Cas check it out later; Dean's not letting go of it for anything.

"Pleased to meet you both. You're part of the family now," he says to Dean and me. "We will take good care of you."

I don’t know what the fuck that means either and it's all so confusing. _Especially with Gabriel's warning._ "Word to the wise, don't accept any gifts from Balthazar and I apologize in advance for Samandriel if he comes by. He likes little Omegas."

Michael gets up to leave and Dean watches him the whole time as he walks away. "Daddy?" Dean tugs on my hair. "Do you think…do you think Michael will want to be my friend?"

"I think he already is, baby boy." I don't know if that's a good thing.

"Kay. But, but I'm, what if he doesn't like me, later?"

That's Dean's self-doubt kicking in. He's afraid that once Michael gets to know him, he won't like him anymore. Whether Michael's good or bad, I don't know, but I know one little boy that'll be crushed if I answer in any way but one. "He's going to love you, Dean. Absolutely adore you."

**

"I cannot believe my brother," Cas says later. I've finally convinced Dean to sit in his own chair, but he still doesn't want to leave the table.

"Uh, which one?"

"Who else? Michael. He insists on viewing the bite-marking ceremony. I explained our decision to keep it private, but he's not to be swayed."

 _It is often done publically._ "But that means we'll have to do it here." _I don't think I want angels in our home yet._ "And Dean will have to see too." _He won't go to anyone except me, or Cas. He'd have to see me bite Cas, hence our decision to do it in private._ I'm just shy of freaking out.

"Believe me, I know, but there's nothing for it Sam. I'm sorry."

This is a disaster. I don't want Dean seeing me bite Cas. I don't know how he'll react. "Daddy, is it time for cake?"

He didn't eat food, but he'll eat the cake. Of course. "Soon, sweetheart. _Cas,_ what are we going to do?"

I've never seen the angel, the one who is now my husband, this stressed out. "I'll try again, baby."

"Papa, Daddy says cake is soon."

"It is butterfly. Do you want to come with Papa for a bit?"

"No!"

Cas does not appreciate Dean's bratty attitude, the one I've been dealing with all evening. He's about to say something, but I shake my head at him. "Fine," he huffs and takes off. Great. Now Cas is ticked at me too. I run both my hands through my hair.

When I look up, Dean's tugging at his shirt. "I can take this off now, Daddy."

"We still haven't done pictures yet Dean."

"Off. Take it off now, _please_ Daddy."

I have no will to fight with him at this point. "You can take your shirt off, but you're not getting all the way naked." He's wearing a white tank top underneath. I help him out of the blue vest and white button-up. Dean's got some muscle for an Omega, but he's still thin in comparison to me. His torso is long and thin with broad shoulders, but he's hard and muscled from hunting.

This must be Balthazar.

"I can tell by the look on your face, Michael's already 'warned' you about me, but hasn't Gabriel been by to 'warn' you about him? Maybe you shouldn't trust Michael."

"I don't trust any of you."

"Fair. Can I at least show the little bloke what I got him? I'll take it straight back from whence it came if you disapprove. I went through a lot of trouble to get it."

He doesn't wait for my answer and reaches into his jacket pulling out something that shouldn't fit in there. It's a long gleaming sword—shiny and sharp. "Straight from the days of Camelot." Dean's eyes are wide. "See? He likes it. I knew you'd like it."

"Are you insane? You're not giving my child a sword."

"It's not just any sword; I'm insulted you'd talk about it that way. It's a silver sword, for hunting. I thought the little blighter was a hunter?"

"No, I mean yes he is, but, you know what? Just, no. No, no, no—put it back from whence it came. We're not taking that home."

"Fine. I'll put it away for now. I'll give it to Castiel. He can decide what to do with it." He pushes it toward his hand and the sword disappears inch by inch, magically.

Dean's interested. "Gone, Daddy," he says pointing.

"Just like I'd better be. I'm not getting a good look from your daddy, kid. Another time then. Toodles."

He leaves; I glare after him. "Jesus Christ," I mutter.

I spend the next hour trying to entertain Dean and various wedding guests who've decided they need to meet us; we visit a bit with Jo, Ellen and crew who can't stay much longer. At least none of Cas's brother return.

Aside from Dean's cranky attitude, I'm proud of how he's doing. He wants to stay close to me and there's a lot of hair twisting going on, but he's doing well considering this is a large crowd and too many people freak him out. He is rubbing his eyes frequently. He's going to move into the over-tired category, soon. Fuck. Where's Cas?

On cue, he makes an appearance. He looks slightly less frazzled than before. "Baby, I'm sorry about earlier—I don't want us to be upset with each other. Forgive me?"

"It's okay Cas. I think this is the nature of weddings. They're not as much fun for the wedding couple as it would appear."

"Thankfully this will be our only wedding then," he says with a shine to his expression and a twinkle in his eyes. "Good news. Someone made quite the impression with my brother. When I explained about Dean, he said he's be willing to make a concession for him."

"I'm sensing a but."

"Yeah. But, we have to allow my brothers to 'chaperone' a private bite-marking ceremony at the house, when Dean's asleep."

"I don't want them at the house, Cas."

"I know, Baby, but…"

"…it's the best you could do." Cas looks about as defeated as I feel, which is saying something. I reach out to smooth back his messy hair. "It's okay, Cas. I know how hard you've been working all night. We'll, get through it."

"I haven't even spent anytime with you, or Dean."

We both look to Dean, who's staring forlornly at the large cake, rubbing his eyes, trying to be a good boy, but wanting nothing more than to go home…after he's eaten cake. "I know how you can make it up to a certain someone."

"He looks exhausted."

"He is. We've had quite the night."

"Papa," Dean says, sounding like he's holding back tears. "I can have cake now?"

"Yeah. I think it's time. You've been waiting so good."

"C'mon." I pick Dean up knowing he's still all about Daddy, especially when he's this tired and the three of us head over to the cake. We don't make a big announcement over it, we simply cut the cake and enjoy a somewhat private cake ceremony where we each feed Dean a bite of cake and then each other. I smoosh cake in Cas's face and Dean, thinking that's the best thing ever, smooshes cake in mine; Cas kisses it off me.

We head out to the dance floor from there and get a first dance as husband and husband _and family._ Dean's getting pretty heavy for me by this point; Cas puts an arm under mine, which is under Dean, easily helping me prop him up, since he's still clinging to me. Dean's arms are around my neck and his head on my shoulder. He still won't sleep.

**

Later, we set Dean up with a bib and a big piece of cake. No I don't like that it's all he's really eaten in hours, but it's making him so damn happy. He's been a ball of nerves over today from the outset. The day sucked for him. At long last there's something putting a huge smile on his face; he can eat good food tomorrow.

He makes a big mess too. Cake is everywhere, including all over his face and hands. "You like that cake, huh Dean?"

"Yeah! It's good Daddy. Thank you."

Cas slumps down beside me again, his vessel that much more bedraggled than earlier. I smile. "You're the best Cas."

"How can you say that? This wedding was a disaster, mostly thanks to my family."

"My family didn't help much either," I say knocking my head toward the cake monster. His mood sinks further. "What did I say, Cas?"

"Isn't…isn't Dean, _our_ family? I know I'm not blood, but—"

"—oh fuck, Cas that's not what I meant. Family doesn't end in blood, or hell, begin with it even." I'm thinking of Dad of course; Cas can see I am. "Us three, we're the only family we have to worry about. And right now, we're happy aren't we?"

I'm looking at Dean and Cas is looking at Dean. My meaning is clear and I know Cas agrees; when Dean is happy, we're happy. Cas takes my hand and squeezes it, his eyes crinkle with a smile. "And there's one more thing you should know, there's no way he's going to sleep alone tonight, so consummating this marriage is out of the question, at least for tonight."

He leans is to kiss me. "That's fine Baby. I can't think of anything better to do on our wedding night, than group cuddles with my new family."


	9. Run to Bun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW. I was supposed to finish BDD like I said--lies! LIES! But I've been wanting to write this chapter forever, like we're talking since I wrote the last chapter. Forgive me?
> 
> I'm more than half done the BDD chapter. 
> 
> **Warnings:** New tags. And because I don't know how to explain in tags, I'm gong to add, Cas's brothers watch the biting/mating/bonding ceremony thing. This means they do watch them have sex. Nobody participates, but Cas and Sam do go all out, so just thought I'd warn ya. Personally, I don't think it's any more or less "adventurous" than the usual Mock fare, but my opinions are not always the best to go by, so jic! I also feel the need to apologize for making John such a bad guy. Truth is, I LOVE John and don't think he's a bad guy at all, but it worked for my story, so sorry John! 
> 
> Enjoy!

I don't like sleeping. When I sleep the darkness swallows me; drowning, suffocating. Dark, because it's dark inside them and I'm all alone. That's when _he_ comes. I run. Sometimes I freeze in place, but mostly I run. I can't imagine fighting him, which is confusing. I should be able to—I can fight ghosts and stuff, but not him. Don't know why.

When he catches me—he always did before Papa—he hurts me. That's not the worst of it. I can usually manage the pain. It's the terrible fear in my belly that I'm never going to see Daddy or Papa again that makes me wish I, well I don't like thinking it.

Since Papa started putting his smell all over Bun-Bun it's been the slightest bit better. When I run, I have a direction I'm running to. It gives me hope and in the blackness there's an inkling of light. Since Papa's been doing that, I've been lucky and I wake up before he catches me, because if he catches me when I'm running, it's worse. More often, these days, I wake up before he gets me and that's good, but I still don't like it. Michael might think Bun-Bun is smelly, but Papa's scent is my salvation.

I'm running tonight and he's especially angry. I'm out of breath; I've been running for what seems like forever—I just want my daddy or papa. I wish they'd come save me, but they can't, they can't get in here. He made sure. They can never save me while I'm asleep. _The knowing I'm asleep's never made it any better._

Tonight, something's different. Up ahead there's blue light glowing in the darkness like a hazy blue door. The light is a blue like the eyes of Papa's big brother, Michael, the one Daddy says he thinks would be my friend. Standing near the door is Bun-Bun. He's waiting for me. He looks just like he does, soft cotton body with arms and legs like stubby tree logs. His button eyes don't blink and his pale pink nose is still, not twitching like the real bunnies Papa took me to see, his mouth a line of sewn black thread. And he's larger than life. At least three times bigger than me. Beyond the fuzz of the door made of blue light, I can see the impression of a meadow filled with purple flowers, grass and summer evening sunshine. He holds out a stubby paw to me and I understand—I have to make it to him. He can't come into the dream any further than he is.

_I've got to make it to him; there's no other option._

"Dean. Come to Alpha. Now," _he_ says from behind me. It's hard not to obey him, since I'm compelled. It's in an Omega's very nature to obey, especially their Alpha. He'll always be my first alpha and worse, we share blood. Violating an order from him takes great effort. Tears drip down my face from fear, but also because of the feelings I feel when I'm defiant.

As soon as I take Bun's hand, the darkness falls away and the impression of the summer evening becomes real. Suddenly, the whole thing shakes, like someone's knocking on the side of a snow globe. Both Bun and I look back and I can see his face surrounded by darkness, one hand pressed against the image of where we are, like there is actual glass preventing him from entering and the other a fist pounding against the dome. "Come back here, Dean. It's only a matter of time. When I get you, it will be worse. Worse than before."

I shudder at the thought, but I won't go to him, no matter how much I'm compelled. Bun waves a paw toward where I can see only his face and flowers grow up the space in front of him, 'till I can't see him anymore. Eventually, the shaking stops. It's just Bun and me.

I'm not afraid of Bun, but I should be. The way he's literally a stuffed toy come to life should scare me—he does look haunting, with those dead button eyes. I'm not though. I feel safe. He doesn't talk, can't talk since his mouth doesn't move I guess, just lets me continue to squish my fingers into his stuffed paw, which I'm pretty sure means he can't feel anything. Without words, I can understand him, he's going to take me somewhere, but we have to walk awhile.

I want to crawl. I feel too 'big' when I'm walking. I wonder if Bun can carry me? He's big enough and I carry him lots when I'm the bigger one. Besides, I'm really tired, from all the running. "B-Bun-Bun? You can carry me? P-please?"

He tilts his head at me and, well, not frowns, his inanimate face remains exactly as still as it always does, but I _feel_ like he's frowning. Dreams never make any sense, this is no different. Reluctantly, he lifts me to his large cotton-stuffed body. I lay my head on his shoulder and put my thumb in my mouth, happy to let Bun take over everything. Suddenly, his other paw is there with a soother for me and I reach out to grab it gratefully.

I feel secure attached to Bun-Bun. The scent of Papa is still strong on him, but there's the hint of someone else now, someone-something powerful. I know Bun isn't going to talk to me, but I talk to him and tell him everything I can't say to anyone else. I tell Bun about _him_ and how scary I think he is, I tell Bun why my nightmares are so desolate; I even share how afraid I am of losing my daddy and papa, that someday, I think I won't make it back. I cry silent tears and get Bun all wet. If he minds, he doesn't indicate, he focuses on carrying me.

I watch as bees buzz from clover flower to clover flower and the purple flowers sway together in the wispy breeze in time with the grass. The whole place smells like lilacs, even though the strange purple flowers are not lilacs, but something else I've never seen before and can't name. And butterflies. Butterflies flutter everywhere, by my nose, chasing each other in stencils through the sky that only they know the pattern to, sometimes landing for a rest on Bun's face, or an ear. Most of them are white, but occasionally, I spy purple ones, blues ones, even red, orange and yellow ones.

In this place, I feel content and relaxed. All the weight I've ever felt is lifted from me.

When Bun stops, I look up to see where he's taken me. There's a large basket attached to a giant butterfly whose heart-shaped wings are gossamer purples, blues, greens and pink. She's a beautiful creature with large antennae and thick black legs. She doesn't speak either, but I know she wants me to climb inside the basket.

"You're not coming with me, Bun?" I ask, but I already know he isn't. He means for me to go myself with the butterfly. He looks back, way back to where we came from. I know what he's intent on. He's going to guard the door to make sure _he_ doesn't find a way to get in here.

He shakes his head and lifts me into the basket. The butterfly beats her wings enough that she's up in the air, the basket I'm in floats off the ground to hover just near Bun. The scary feeling in my tummy is back and the whole world shakes again. Bun checks the way back, I can sense he's worried. He signals to butterfly and she begins our ascent. I understand— _he's_ trying to get into this place; I have to go, he has to stay to stop him. I reach out to Bun anyway, I don't want leave him, but I don't have a choice as he gets further and further away. The meadow of things gets smaller and turns a hazy white then blue as we climb higher and higher skyward. Then I wake up.

**

As it turns out, we do get to consummate our marriage—in the most awkward way imaginable.

"I don't understand. Is your human, broken?" Michael asks, truly perplexed. I'm just itching to cover myself with the blanket that's just in my reach.

Forgive me if I'm a little gun-shy, but it's hard to go through with this—the bite-marking ceremony with Cas's brothers and one of his cousins watching. When Cas told me his cousin, Gadreel, was added to the viewing, I didn't bother complaining. I knew it would be happening one-way or the other. Hearing the explanation, that Gadreel had asked and apparently Gadreel is a favorite of Michael's (like a spoiled younger sibling Cas had mentioned) Michael gave him permission to attend, was of no consequence.

"Not broken, Michael, let me just…" Cas is uncharacteristically lost for what to do, our wedding enough to exhaust him.

"I thought you said he was vocal in the sack? Right now he seems like a scared squirrel." That's Gabriel.

"What?" I say. Does he talk about what we do with his brothers?

"Not helpful Gabriel. That's not what I said, Baby," he says to me.

I let him know without words he can fill me in later on just what he _did_ say.

"Maybe you need our assistance?" Balthazar says.

That makes Cas angry. I doubt he'd need, or want anyone's 'help' especially his brothers', right? Except I can't miss the steel boner Cas is sporting right now, the one curled in an arc toward his stomach. The head is practically purpling. At first, I thought it was me turning him on—despite his family members being here, I naively thought his dick desired me _that_ much despite it all, but now I'm wondering. Is he…does he like this? _Whatever 'this' is._ We're both naked as is tradition for this ceremony. I'm sitting on Cas, facing him, my legs spread on either side of him, my ass very exposed; his brothers can see every part of me, including my balls, which are hanging down along with my limp cock.

"You're not touching my husband," Cas snaps.

"Whoa. Touchy."

I'm grateful for the protective arm Cas puts around me. It does nothing to cover my nakedness, but the protection it brings makes it feel like it is. And all of it, the possessive, protectiveness, makes my dick jump, my hips reflexively jut toward Cas.

"He liked that," Michael observes. It's almost funny the way Michael's watching us, like he's a scientist in a lab, watching rats. For Gabriel, it's like we're a sport on T.V. and Balthazar, well I don’t really want to think about how he's watching us. I think Gadreel is only here because he felt like he was missing out on something and he thought he might get to play with the baby. I'm sure he doesn't even know what we're doing, nor care. He looks disinterested.

Cas observes the interest my dick has taken and capitalizes, planting a hand, flat, to each side of my torso, gripping and yanking me to him. "You like that—being mine, me showing it, even in front of others," he says staring up at me with complete adoration. It's not a question.

"You know I do Cas," I hiss into his ear. I do like when he shows people I'm his. I know that's not very 'Alpha' of me. It's not that I'm not Alpha, I am, but Cas is _more_ Alpha and I like him showing it. I was uncomfortable with those feelings at first, but as our relationship has evolved, I'm less so. Make no mistake, I like to show people he's mine too. I can't wait to bite his neck, so everyone will know. The thought makes my teeth bare.

He tugs at me again, pressing my torso to him more firmly, he uses his tongue to toy with one of my nipples. "Then let me, let me do what I want," he says. "I promise you'll like this even more."

I'm floored. Speechless. Almost. "D-do you like this Cas? Being naked in front of your brothers? Fucking in front of your brothers?"

"Yes. I like what you humans call, exhibitionism," Cas admits.

What a time to be having this conversation. "Exhibitionism and having sex in front of your brothers is, well it's a completely different level of exhibitionism, Cas."

"I am sorry, Sam." He's still fondling me and licking my nipple.

In Cas's defense, he probably doesn't see this how I see this. I'm constantly having to rethink things, put them into perspective, see through an angel's eyes. Exhibitionism, in this case, having sex in front of people, simply 'is what it is'—brothers? Cousins? Why should that make any difference? Angels do not have the same taboos humans have. _At least they're not my brothers._

"Did you have to wait 'till now to tell me?"

"I wanted to, many times. But I knew you wouldn't like it. As it was, I tried hard to avoid this. There was no way around it. Had there been I would have made sure you never knew. I wouldn't want you to feel badly. I was trying to avoid it today as well. I'm only telling you now because it seems to have become prudent."

"Aw. Isn't this cute. Kink negotiation," Balthazar says.

Cas and I both send daggers at him with our eyes. "Quiet, Balthazar. One more comment from you and you will be sent from the room," Michael says.

I'm not sure why everyone was warning me of Michael, so far, I like him the best. I turn my attention back to Cas. Most people in my situation would be mad, but I can't muster up enough anger to be mad. Cas really was trying to protect me—shield me from his 'depravities.' Which is crazy considering some of the things we've done, but this must be one of those ones he sensed would cross a line. "Cassy, if this is something you like, I want to give it to you, love. Maybe not in front of your brothers, but I—" I'm biting my lip trying to figure out how to tell him. "—I wouldn't mind, especially if you could…do the thing?"

Cas smiles. "Leave it to me, Baby. I know just what you want—I'll make it so you won't care who's here. You'll be enjoying yourself too much." He smacks my ass.

"Yeah, Cassy!" Gabe says. "Show that human who's boss."

Gabriel receives a look from Michael that's making him reconsider his comments, maybe even his existence. Second thought, maybe I can see there is something there, some reason they all fear Michael. "We have been invited as guests to view this important ceremony in our brother's union with his mate. Your comments disgrace us all. Please exercise the manners I know you both are capable of. I know I taught you better." I find his choice of wording interesting. _Invited_ is a bit strong.

"Yes, sir," they say.

"Apologize."

We get two "I'm sorries," with Gabriel looking at the ground, Balthazar scrinching his nose.

"I would like to offer my apologies as well, Samuel. You will have no more interruptions. Proceed."

Wow. For Michael (at least) this really isn't a 'sexy times' kind of thing. It's every bit part of the wedding as was the ceremony itself and in other eras, that's exactly what this was. It does little to help my 'performance anxiety' but it does help.

Cas turns my head to focus on him. "Sam, look at me. Just me. You're going to enjoy this. I promise, but you've got to focus on me, sweetheart. Can you do that?"

I nod.

"Good. Pass me the lubricant."

There's a bottle of special lubricant on the bed. I looked into it because I wanted to see if there really was anything special about "ceremonial lubricant." I wanted to see if there was anything beyond it being "blessed by a Holy priest," if there was some other connection to the bonding. Apparently there is. It's supposed to assist with activating the mating bond. Some claim it's not needed, others swear by it. How it works; we lathe Cas's cock in it, he comes inside me, there's sperm mixed with "ceremonial lubricant," I bite him, it completes a circle which is supposed to call upon the powers that be and bind us beyond the physical and into the metaphysical.

Couples claim that using it causes the pair to "feel more together." It was hard to figure out what that meant. I couldn't locate anything tangible. I resorted to asking couples who claimed to feel this legendary bond and while they all claimed to have it, they couldn't give me any proof of it. I suggested we didn't need it. Cas was the one who wanted to be thorough in that arena. So we're using it. We had to explain the significance to all present as we were setting up. Michael, in particular, was intrigued.

I slather Cas's cock with Holy lube, thinking about what his brothers (and cousin) are thinking, about what I'm doing—at least Gadreel is quiet. "Sam. Me. Yes they're here, they're watching, but you don't care do you—you care about pleasing me, yes?"

That gets my cock going again. I pump his wet cock. Cas tries to be unaffected, but he's affected. This is a big fucking turn on for him. He swipes up some of the special lube and slips a finger in my hole. I'm aware that everyone can see Cas's finger up my ass, but fuck, as it goes when sex gets going with Cas, it feels too good; instead of saying anything contrary, I lean in to kiss him. Kiss my new husband. When I pull away, I lean my head into his shoulder, already consumed by lust and enjoy his finger pumping in and out of me. Whether I want to or not, I'm moaning and pressing back onto his finger—of course yeah I want to though, fuck…fuck… _fuck_. I know now I really will do anything for Cas, willingly.

All thoughts of Cas's brothers (and cousin) watching are gone. Until he reminds me. "You like that huh, Baby? They can see you, but you don't care, you care about what I want, what I need. I like showing you off. You're all mine, but they can watch us can't they, Baby? They can wish they'd get a turn with you."

Michael doesn't scold Cas for his "inappropriateness." I guess it's our show. Anything we do, goes. And fuck, if I'm not enjoying. For me, it's the humiliation of it all. Thinking about the taboo of it—that these are his brothers we're fucking in front of and they can see me, all of me and hear the noises I make. "Go ahead baby, sit on my cock."

The order makes my dick hard and I realize, yeah, I can do this. _Just focus on Cas. Pleasing Cas._ I'm so much bigger than Cas's vessel, but he's bigger than me in all other ways; I feel that now. Following his direction, I slowly slide down his thick cock, letting it split me open.

I might be looking down at him, but I'm looking to him for guidance. "That's it Baby, right down on there."

His enjoyment bolsters me. I start moving. Latching a hand onto each shoulder, I work his cock and watch his face. This is Cas, my Cas, fuck whoever's here; it's just sex. Let'em watch how beautiful we are. None of my 'go get'em' attitude takes away the hot shame of it, but I use that to fuel my orgasm. My whimpers are loud and yeah, I am vocal. "Fuck Cas. Fuck, fuck."

Cas is vocal too. "That's it Baby, show them. Show them you're mine and I'm yours." He spanks my ass several times; I groan more at the burn and sting of it, all the sensations jolting my cock more.

Timing orgasms together is tricky, but in this moment it feels like the easiest thing, even without Cas touching my cock. Yet another ritual requirement. The "rider" must come untouched. Long ago, it was thought that the "rider" always had to be an Omega, but that was also at a time when two Alphas mating was extremely taboo. Time has revealed that it doesn't matter who's in which position, the mating bond takes. It doesn't even matter who does the biting, though most often, the biting is still done by the Alpha. Time has also revealed how possessive Omegas can be in their own right—Dean's shown many of his own possessive qualities, always scenting Cas and me—dual biting is becoming slightly more common between Alphas and Omegas.

Cas and I have worked out our own system, taking into account some of his angel traditions. I'll be biting him, he's going to tattoo me.

We're both staring at each other, alone for all I'm aware in this moment and we both know it's time. I feel like a light has ignited inside of me and is rising up, up and through me. Cas seems to be shimmering. I don't know if the shimmering is real, or imagination, a trick of the light maybe? I don't know if the others can see, or if it's just us (no one mentioned lights and shimmering in all the research I did) but that's what's happening. As I feel the first pulses of come from my dick and Cas's, he opens his neck for me. I might be the one who prefers to be dominated in this relationship, but he gives me this form of submission and I take it, my alpha suddenly roaring up and I clamp teeth onto his neck, making sure they sink deep enough.

Cas comes hard inside me, I come all over his stomach. They're short moments, but intense and sharply carved into my insides. And speaking of carving… "I'm going to tattoo you now, Sam." He bites his lip. "It's going to hurt."

"S'okay, Cas. I can hack it—Hunter, remember?"

He nods, but there's still apprehension. Is it going to hurt _that_ bad?

Cas puts his fingers to the spot under the nape of my neck, toward the bottom of my cervical spine and I get my answer. I'm paralyzed by white-hot pain that shoots down my spinal cord. I can feel every etching as if it's being drawn stroke by stroke. It's not. Cas is using his angel mojo to sear it there. It only takes mere seconds, but the pain is so agonizing, it feels like it will never end.

Finally, it does.

I'm panting and oddly, I smile. It's done. It's all done and over and we're bonded. Mated for life. Cas must be having similar thoughts because he's smiling too. He pulls me into a sweet kiss, we're both laughing.

"Uh-hum," Michael clears his throat. Oh right. They're still here. I scramble away from Cas and do grab a blanket this time. Cas has blood leaking from his neck. I know he's going to do some angel tinkering to it, so it doesn't heal over. Mating marks can't heal over, for humans—not all the way, they leave two crescent scars—but he's not human even if he's using a human vessel.

I rise off Cas and wrap myself further in the blanket, Cas stands up, not as concerned about his nakedness as I am. "It is done then. Thank you for allowing us to participate. Welcome to our family Samuel. I will make sure you and Dean are always taken care of. Castiel, we have things to discuss. Tomorrow will do. Be there."

Cas looks concerned. "Wait? What things? You said this was what you required, we abided your command."

Michael shrugs. "I've changed my mind. Be there."

"Michael, this is preposterous. You can't do this. We agreed—"

"Manners little brother." Cas shuts up. "I run this family, I do what I see fit for its protection. Sometimes it requires a change in protocol. Be there."

Cas is left seething at his eldest brother while the other two smirk on at him, but a hard look from Michael shuts them up too. Gadreel, who has been silent the entire time, finally speaks. "Can I meet the baby? I didn't get the chance earlier. Oh I 'd so love to meet him."

I'm about to tell him the baby is sleeping, but that's when said baby cries. Cas and I look to each other. "You've got blood seeping down your neck, I'd better go," I say."

"Allow me to attend as well, Samuel," Michael says. Why bother to make it sound like you're asking? I don't say.

"Sure, Michael, but FYI, he's super grouch-o when he wakes up from nightmares."

"F…Y…I?"

"Just, never mind." I grab my housecoat from the hook behind the door.

"I want to come," Gadreel whines. _This angel seems, young._ He doesn't look young, but then, vessels aren't accurately telling.

Michael shakes his head. "Not tonight. Another time. Go with Gabriel and Balthazar. They will take you home."

Whatever his "age," he obeys Michael's command. _Everyone does._

Michael follows me to Dean's room.

I don't turn on the light, I don't want him waking up anymore than he is already, I hope I'll get him back to sleep easily. Dean's sitting up in his bed, in just his diaper and a t-shirt, soother in his mouth, tears streaming down his face. "Aw sweet boy, did you have a bad dream?"

He nods. He also notices Michael and points to him as I sit on the bed and pull his smaller body to me. "Do you remember Michael?"

He nods again. "Are we not talking?" I say. Headshake. "Okay. How about you just go back to sleep then?" Another headshake.

"C'mon, Daddy's going to lay right here with you. You're fine."

Michael crouches down in front of the bed and Dean, he pick ups Bun-Bun who's fallen onto the floor. "This worked, didn't it little Omega?"

Normally, I get offended on behalf of Dean when anyone calls him that, but I don't with Michael. Michael's affectionate. Maybe I'm missing something about Michael—I get that he's a control freak—but I don't seem him as 'bad' or a 'bag of dicks' as Cas told me Gabriel calls him behind his back. With Dean he's so, careful and considerate.

Dean reaches out for his cotton-stuffed friend and hugs him to his chest, rubbing his face into him. He nods.

"Dean?" What did Michael do?

Michael stands, satisfied with whatever he did. "Your father was unkind to Dean."

That's no newsflash. "He was awful to Dean, yes." I squeeze Dean harder like Dad's about to come strolling in the door any minute.

"He did something to Dean's mind. Fractured it, so he could get inside to torment him—beyond his death."

"What?"

"I do apologize. This news is upsetting. Do not feel bad for not knowing, you couldn't have, unless Dean told you."

And he won't talk about it—it's too scary. I smooth back his hair and kiss his crown. Jesus. "Does that mean it's real?"

"That depends on how it's viewed. Is John Winchester alive and running around inside Dean's head?" Dean flinches at his name and so do I "No. He's not. But many believe there is little divide between what's real and what's imagined. Who's to say the experience isn't 'real' for Dean?"

"I don't mean to be rude Michael, I get all the philosophical aspects of imagination, I don't deny their realism to the person, but to be clear, John Winchester is still dead, he's not literally inside my brother?"

"He is not."

"You said he fractured Dean's mind so he could get into it beyond his death. That's sounds real to me."

"He left an imprint, but it's still only a hallucination. He did do this to Dean. Why I cannot say, but it was deliberate." 

I can't say for sure either, but my best guess is yet another way to control Dean and make him obedient. "C-Can it be fixed?"

"No. If I could fix it, I would. He does something here to me," Michael says putting a hand over where his vessel's heart might be. "I don't understand it, but I know that if there is anything I can do to help Dean, I will. Which is what I did. He will be protected now. I will keep an eye on it."

"Are you inside his head now? Is that what you did?"

His eyes light with truculence twined with impishness. "Oh no, not me Mr. Winchester. Dean, why don't you show Daddy who helped you?"

Dean holds up Bun-Bun. Amidst all the tears on his face is a giant smile. I can't be upset once I've seen that, but I'm not fooled. Just because he's wearing a different meat suit, doesn't mean it's not him. "He's still afraid to go to sleep," I say. "He still woke upset." It's all I've got. I'm angry with him for trespassing into my brother's head without asking, but it's obviously made Dean's night. If it helps, it's not like I'm going to evict him.

"Give it time. The visions may never go away, but once he can count on being rescued, sleep will come easier and possibly he'll stay asleep." Michael's thinking, the clogs are definitely turning in his head, but what, I'm sure I'm not privy to, so I don't bother asking.

Thank God, Cas appears at the door. I'm more than disturbed by this information and Michael's solution, helpful or not. Dean begins crying anew at the site of Papa (dressed in housecoat) and reaches for him. "All right, okay Butterfly." Cas indulges Dean, lifting him off the bed, cuddling him close.

"My work here is done for tonight. Castiel, tomorrow," Michaels says, to which Cas responds with a yes sir.

Cas climbs onto the bed with Dean, the three of us lay down together. I rub Dean's back, Cas holds him tight and hums the song he likes to sing to Dean. Dean eventually falls back asleep curled around Cas and Bun-Bun.

The events of the night have me whirring. For now I'm content enough in the knowledge that Dean's sleep is better off than it was and I'm excited as I realize I'm feeling Cas without having to touch him, like there's an invisible tether between us. I get it now; what all the others were saying. I "feel more together" without being able to say just how that's come to be. I reach out to touch where I bit his neck, running my fingers over the mark and wonder at the same time what my tattoo looks like? "We're married Cas," I say. "And bonded too."

Cas puts a hand over mine and turns his head to kiss my wrist, our boy between us steadfast; out cold. Cas's eyes crinkle with a smile. "We are."


	10. Michael's Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting some questions about Michael and Dean. I understand that some people don't "ship" Michael and Dean. But that's not a the same as a trigger, that's simply not liking something. I can understand that, but it's not enough for me to give the story away to the people asking. You're gonna have to live on the edge and see what happens with them, or stop reading, I suppose. 
> 
> However, if you need to know about a specific trigger, please PM me on tumblr and so long as you're kind, polite and respectful, we can chat about it. I will not be pleased if you PM me to tell me how much you don't ship something. I'm always happy to chat and make a new friend. I'm deadmockingbirds1
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And uh, **Warning** for violent, but delicious Sastiel sex at the end. 
> 
> I'll be around to answer all comments to stories tonight. Sadly, I must go clean my house ;_;

Bun is lounging on a beach chair, like he's sun tanning. I think that's funny (so I laugh) stuffed toys don't suntan. He slants the book he's reading to frown at me. It's not really a frown, because his black-thread mouth doesn't move, but I know he's frowning just the same. I also seem to know when he's talking and how he's feeling. I want him to talk for real, but I understand if he can't. I couldn't talk for a long time and sometimes I still don't want to. Sometimes, it's scary. I know Daddy and Papa would never hurt me, but there are times I just freeze up. This great big feeling of overwhelm. I can't decide on what to say, not from lack of, usually from too many things bubbling at the surface—I can't settle on any one thing, so I just say nothing. Is that what's happening to Bun?

The naughty side of me makes me want to see if I can get him to talk. He "told me" to stay near his chair. I've been crawling amongst the clover flowers chasing bumblebees and butterflies, but now I'm bored and I want him to play with me. I don't think Bun knows how to play, which is weird, 'cause he does when I'm bigger than he is.

I check to see that he's still reading, yep, then slowly crawl away from him. I don't head to the direction of where _he_ was. I still have to run to get to Bun. I run fast then Bun catches me and brings me here, safe from _him._

I don't head that way, to where we came from, nor toward where we go to see Butterfly, I head toward the trees. I don't get far. Bun is off his chair giving me a "look" that says he is not pleased. He points toward the area around his chair. I sit back on my haunches and pout at him. "I wanna go there, Bun."

Bun shakes his head and thrusts his paw to the chair again.

"I-I-I'm bored, Bun. Will you play with me?"

I still get the sense he's not happy, he crosses his arms, in a way that's familiar and waits. I won't disobey him, now that I've been told and since I can't think of any more things to say to get him to change his mind, I crawl back, Bun close behind. When I'm back to the 'chair area,' I push back so I'm sitting on one butt cheek and look up at him, pitifully. I rub my eyes, which Daddy says means I'm tired, but I know I am asleep. Am I tired while I'm dreaming? Can someone be that? Maybe I'll put my head down in the grass…

Bun sits down on the chair, but before he swings his legs up to resume lounging, he studies me. I don't know why, but I feel like crying. I wish Daddy could meet me here. I love Bun, he calms me, but he's so cold. The tears brim my eyes and I take sharp breaths trying not to cry. I don't want to annoy Bun. Bun looks to the sky then back at me. If he could, I think he'd be rolling his round button eyes. He opens his arms.

I don't give him time to change his mind and crawl to him, climbing up to his soft cotton lap, hanging onto his stuffed torso. With me on top of him, he lies back, letting me cuddle him and suck my soother; tears falling onto his plush chest. I can't believe it when I feel his large paw start to stroke my head. It's too large a paw to really do more than push my hair flat (Daddy runs his fingers through, which I like) but it feels good and it's special, 'cause it's bun. He feels angry. I hope it's not at me.

I must have dozed off (sleeping inside of sleeping) because when I open my eyes, Bun is reading his book over me, I'm tucked under his paw. I squirm to his dismay. "I can go see Daddy now?" I point to the sky. Bun is nice and he keeps me safe, but I still have a bad feeling in my tummy, something only Daddy or Papa can make go away.

 _"Very well,"_ he seems to say even though his lips don't move. But this time when he takes me to Butterfly and puts me in the basket, he pats my head before I'm floating off into the sky.

**

"It'll all be okay, Baby," Cas says as I try without success to calm down.

My fears are illogical, I know. So far Michael's only done good things for Dean. And speaking of, when I hear his soft cries over the monitor, I abandon the tie I'm tying and head to his room.

"Daddy?" he says, rubbing his eyes, his face wet with tears. How long has he been crying?

"It's okay sweetheart," I say picking him up and rocking him back and forth. "That was a good nap, huh?"

"Yeah," he tells me, even though he's still crying quietly, hitched breaths, the whole works.

"Guess we should get you changed and dressed, huh? We're going on a little trip today."

"Where, Da-Daddy?"

At least he's talking. He wouldn't talk all morning. "We're going to see Papa's brother. Remember Michael?" I lay him back down on the bed and grab stuff to change him. Dean gets a shy smile on his face. I can't help it—that makes me feel better about the whole thing, Dean's smile, even if that should probably make me worry more. I look after him now, but once upon a time, he looked after me, some part of me still remembers and is soothed by Dean's opinion.

Dean's quiet as he chews on his thumb for a moment (he must have lost his soother). "Daddy? Michael's my friend?"

"He's your friend, Dean." I take off all his clothes with plans to change them, but work on his diaper first.

"I pick it, Daddy?" he asks, patting his belly.

"You want to pick your own shirt?"

"Yeah."

There are shirts he likes better than others and preferably his onsies, but he doesn't ask to pick his shirts. This is new. "Okay, baby boy."

When he's all taped in, I carry him over to his closet and he sifts through the t-shirts that are hung up. He picks the one with the giant burger on it. I had planned on dressing him a little nicer. His pretty green eyes stand out when he wears white and he's got a nice, short-sleeved button up to go with his black dress slacks. He would have looked great, even if I would have had a hell of a time keeping him clean, but I can't say no to his t-shirt choice.

"You want Michael to see that you like burgers?"

He nods shyly.

"Okay. You want to put it on by yourself too?

He shakes his head. "You do it Daddy."

I give in of course; I probably give in too much. Sue me. I also help him into comfortable jeans, since black slacks and t-shirts don't go together. Cas comes in just as I'm pulling him up from the bed and am fishing around for his soother. "Papa!" Dean says.

"There's my boy. What are you wearing?" Cas is careful not to make it sound like a critique to Dean, but I can tell he's a little unsure about this development.

"Dean wanted to wear his cheeseburger shirt to show Michael. He picked it himself."

Dean nods, his fingers finding their way into his mouth to be chewed on. It's not hair twisting, but he's nervous. Papa is important to him too. What will Papa think of his clothing choice?

"It's a nice shirt Dean. Michael will love it."

Dean smile is huge and toothy.

I find his soother. "You want this, baby boy?" I hold it out to him, he opens his mouth to accept it leaning forward then he reaches out to Papa, demanding to be carried. "Are you going to cling to Papa all day?"

I can see his cute head nod into Papa's shoulder. Cas is over the moon—he loves snuggles from his boy. I take the opportunity to finish tying my tie. "Did you see how nice Daddy looks?" Cas asks Dean. Cas is smiling at me, admiring me in a way that says he'd like to take me out of the clothes making me look 'nice.' My cock hardens thinking about what Cas is thinking about. I can feel the air intensify between us, we both have to discreetly adjust our pants.

Dean's head perks up and he looks me over with a shy smile. He takes out his soother. "Daddy's pretty," he tells Papa.

"Daddy's the most gorgeous man on the planet, next to you of course, Butterfly."

Dean replaces his soother then snuggles back in. "Well, we ready? Should we go?"

Cas nods, shifting Dean to one arm and holding his hand out for me. "C'mon Baby. Let's fly."

**

We are seated before Michael's desk (yeah, the 'Head' angel has a desk, go figure) and by we I mean Cas is in one chair and I'm in another with Dean on my lap. Dean's bordering on terrified, but it's a different kind than like he gets from a nightmare. I suspect it has to do with his 'new friend' he wants to impress.

I don't know where we are. Heaven? Earth? But it doesn't matter much.

Gabriel and Balthazar are in the room as well, standing like foreboding minions and setting the tone for this meeting, but Gadreel is on the floor with a… is that a child's book?

"Gadreel, put that away," Michael orders. "We're about to begin."

"Yes, sir," he pouts, but does as asked.

"Daddy," Dean whimpers in my ear. "C-can we go home?"

"Soon honey." I rub his arm.

"N-now, please Daddy." His 'little' voice, still gruff with _Dean_ breaks my heart.

I look to Michael to see if he'll grant us a minute. To my surprise, he does. "What's the matter baby boy?" I say to him quietly and create the feel as if we're having a private conversation, although we are not.

He's not crying yet, I can tell he's aiming for stoic, but he's close. He takes out his soother and squirms closer to my ear. "L-lady said I w-was s-stupid Dah-ahdy. He won't, he won't wan' be my friend."

I have to heave a calming breath. I feel Cas tense beside me. All common reactions in our house. But Michael, Michael loses it. He turns around flipping the desk and throwing it into the wall, all the stuff on it goes flying. Even Gabriel and Balthazar jump. Gadreel curls into himself. Michael's not finished though, he tears books from the shelves, he throws anything he can get his hands on, missing us purposely, but aimed toward the back wall causing Gabriel and Balthazar to have to move a few times. When he finally finishes working out his rage (still boiling with anger) he looks me in the eyes. "Show me."

"Michael," Cas warns.

"No, it's okay, Cas," I say.

" _Sam._ " Cas has his own way of being protective and right now, I can tell he's willing to go up against his brother for me.

"I'm fine with it. Michael, you may look to see the day Dean's talking about and _only_ that day."

I have no illusions that Michael will abide my demand, but I feel better saying it. The way he smiles, tells me I'm right. Dean is shaking as Michael places two fingers to my temple. It only takes a second and he has all the information he needs. "Gabriel." Gabriel comes forward, so Michael can tell him something too quiet for me to hear, then with a flap, he's gone. I don't know what he's said to Gabriel, I don't want to know, hell, don't even want to think about it. "My apologies," Michael says. "I normally have greater control over my lesser… feelings. You do not have to worry about displays like that often."

Balthazar snorts, but shuts up quick when Michael glares at him. Dean's still shaking. I squeeze him tight as I can and kiss his crown. His fingers find their way to his hair and he's twisting, twisting, twisting. "Dean," Michael's voice is calm. "Isn't there something you wanted to show me?"

Dean inhales a shaky breath and I don't have to look at him to know there are tears now. Silent ones. He shakes his head burying himself further into my chest. "Dean," Michael says in a stern voice then reaches out to touch Dean's arm, which Dean allows. "You were going to show me your shirt, remember?" _That did not happen on the day at the gas station Michael._

I'm surprised when Dean peeks out. Michael reaches into the diaper bag (without asking me), which is beside my chair and pulls out Bun. Dean and Michael look at each other and seem to be having a silent conversation then his whole world shifts and Dean sits up to take Bun, but he tucks Bun under his arm so he can show off his t-shirt. Michael's face shifts to arrogant, since he succeeded in making Dean feel better. "Very nice. I was hoping you liked cheeseburgers they're… delicious." Somehow, I don't think Michael likes cheeseburgers. "You and I are going to be friends for a long time. Would you like that?"

Dean looks at me, shocked, but I can see the secret thought, playing across his eyes that, _he knew this would be the right shirt to impress his new friend with._

"Go on, Baby boy. Answer," I prompt despite Cas's gaze of disapproval from beside me.

Dean nods.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid you'll have to speak up."

"Yeah. I want to be friends." He hides back into me.

"Good, I'm glad that's cleared up. How will you remember, when you forget that we're friends?"

Dean, animated now, holds up Bun. "Bun-Bun."

"Michael, what did you do?" Cas asks.

"Careful with that tone little brother."

"With all due respect, Dean is my son."

"Oh yes, right that whole adoption thing, but wouldn't that make him your omega?"

"That too, but I have a fatherly role with him, which is important to me. I will protect him, even if it's from you."

A switch flips and Michael goes from firm and caring to outraged. He grabs Cas by the neck and lifts him in the air. "You dare challenge me?"

I don't have any weapons with me, there's little I can do and I know Cas would never forgive me for making sure Dean's not protected first, so I prepare to do just that, but Dean's faster. "Michael, a, a, a, _friend_ wouldn't h-hurt my papa," he says, breath heavy, body reverberating. He's terrified, but he loves his papa more than anything; he's willing to stand up to his fears to protect him.

Michael stops. Slowly, he puts Cas back in his chair and Cas rubs his neck where his vessel now has bruises forming. Michael straightens his jacket. "I will not hurt your papa, but I'm afraid he must be punished. My subordinates cannot speak to me that way."

Dean looks over at Cas with tears in his eyes. It must have been hard being brave like that. He also risked the friendship he wanted so badly. "C'mere Butterfly. I'm okay." Dean climbs over to Cas, taking Bun with him. Dean traces a hand over Cas's neck with watery eyes then hugs him tight. "It's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to me."

"Real great start, Michael," Balthazar says.

"This is Castiel's fault. If he had behaved himself, I would not have had to resort to violent methods of persuasion."

"He's your favorite and we all know you're going to let him off the hook. You're just worked up because of what you just learned about Dean."

I expect another Angel temper tantrum, but Michael just watches Dean and I think I know what's happening. "Dean will forgive you Michael," I tell him. "Just apologize."

Michael has to stare several moments longer, we all wait. "Dean, I apologize for hurting your papa like that—it won't happen again."

"O-Okay," Dean says turning to face Michael, but wedging himself between Cas and the chair.

"Are we still friends?"

Dean looks over to me. "That's up to you, baby boy. Daddy can't decide that for you."

Dean settles his gaze on Michael and smiles. "Friends," he says. He still snuggles into Cas.

Anyone coming into the room now, wouldn't know Michael had been upset (they'd think a hurricane knocked everything over). His whole body is awash with delight, even if he's not smiling. "Thank you. I shall not disappoint you Dean."

I grab a bottle out of the bag and give it to Cas to give to Dean. "Drink that sweetheart. Okay?"

Dean's done enough talking for now; he nods, pulls out his soother and takes the bottle from Cas.

Michael looks like he's having feelings of regret that he's not used to. "Well then." He snaps his fingers and puts the room back to rights. "Let's begin our chat, shall we?"

**

I suck quietly on my milk. I know Papa made it for me because I can taste the spices he always puts in special for me. It tastes like chai tea, without the black tea—little boys can't have black tea. I watch Michael as he speaks to Papa and Daddy; Papa's doing a lot of frowning and Daddy's doing the thing where he listens intently, not agreeing or disagreeing with you per se, but he's hearing you out. He does that with me when I don't want to have a nap, or go to bed.

Michael's pretty like Daddy is, but in a different way and I like watching him. I didn't like what he did to Papa and if he hurt Papa in a way I didn't like, I was planning on not being his friend. We wouldn't have been friends anyway. I haven't had many friends, so I'm no expert, but I don't think a friend of mine should hurt my papa. I'm glad he didn't though. I want to be friends with him more than I've ever wanted to be friends with anyone. I feel a comfort with him like I feel with Daddy and Papa.

When Michael talks, I keep my eyes on him—he's fascinating. "I originally promised Castiel that I would not interfere with your family unless absolutely necessary. It's necessary." Michael looks as he says the last part. "You will need to attend particular meetings, so you are up to date with latest protocol. There are rules to follow and consequences should they not be followed."

"What are the rules?" Daddy asks.

"Obey everything brother Michael says," Papa's other brother, Balthazar says.

"And no speaking out of turn." Michael glares at Balthazar. "But yes, he is right. Do as I say. I only get angry when I am annoyed."

"So all the time," I hear Gabriel's voice say. I take my eyes off Michael to see he's joined us again.

"If the peanut gallery can't be quiet, they can leave."

"I'm being good," Gadreel says.

"Yes, you are. Thank you."

He beams.

"Michael, I'm happy to comply with your rules, but 'obey' you is… vague."

Daddy looks nervous, which makes me suck my bottle a little faster. My eyes part from Michael to watch him for a little while. "I suppose I could have a list made, I've never had to do that before."

"Thank you Michael. I would appreciate that," Daddy says—he's always really polite—and he relaxes. Papa isn't relaxed though. He's tense and he looks mad. I'm pretty sure he's not mad at me. I tilt my head to look at up at him, when he feels my eyes, he looks at me and plants a kiss on my forehead and I know he's not mad at me. He doesn't smile though, so he's mad at someone.

"Excellent. We are a family and we take care of our own. You have become our own, Samuel. Dean. We will take care of you, but it's easier if certain requirements are met. Following the rules is one and two you're going to have to move."

Daddy gets a quiet look, one that says he's sad about this development, but he knows he'll have to accept it. Papa puts his hand out to squeeze Daddy's. "I can't afford to live anywhere else, Michael," Daddy tries.

"All of your expenses will be taken care of."

"Is there a reason we have to move?" Daddy asks.

"It's better for you to be in an area where you can be better observed by the family and besides, I don't approve of the area you live in currently." Michael's eyes look to me then back to Daddy. "I've chosen an area that is Omega friendly."

"You've already picked somewhere?"

"Of course I have. Everything's taken care of. All you'll have to do is move in. We'll have better furniture for you, food will be provided, everything. Even a better vehicle."

Daddy does not look to be okay with any of that. "Cas," he says and feels bad for saying it. He probably doesn't want to get Papa in trouble. I should go comfort Daddy, but I think Papa still needs me for a bit.

"Michael, I'm sure we can figure something out that does not up root my family, but will satisfy your terms."

"I do not like that neighborhood Castiel. It isn't suitable." Michael looks at me again then quickly away.

"They are kind to us Michael. The families nearby all like Dean."

"Not all of them," Michael says, cutting himself off short, like maybe he didn't mean to say that.

"If you're talking about Old Mr. Johnson, he's just an ornery old bugger, set in the ways from his generation. He talks mean, but he's harmless so long as we stay away from him," Daddy explains.

"Papa," I whisper. "Blanket?" I don't like hearing about Old Mr. Johnson.

Papa leans over to Daddy and whispers in his ear; Daddy retrieves my blanket. I keep sucking on my milk, but pull my blanket close and feel the added comfort sink into me. Michael watches.

"It's not just Johnson, but let's talk about him. What about Johnson's threats to and I quote, shoot that damn omega if he steps one foot on my property?"

"First of all Michael, you really need to stay out of our heads," Daddy scolds. "But that's not even a worry, Dean is with one of us at all times. We're not going to bring him over there."

"I don't trust it, something could happen."

"Anything could happen, Michael. We can't live our lives on what _could_ happen."

"Nonsense. This is a likely probability; I'm not talking about anvils falling from the sky. Forget it. I have come up with a viable solution. Moving on—"

"Uh, big brother, if I may?" Gabriel interjects.

"What?" Michael's mad.

"Instead of uprooting them, we could uproot Mr. Johnson. Alternatively, we could place angel detail nearby. I'll even volunteer. I could 'move in' somewhere nearby."

Daddy jumps on that. "Thank you Gabriel. Yes, that could work."

"This is _not_ a discussion. I decide what happens, not you fools." Michael rubs his head like it hurts, but I don't think that's possible for him, not sure. Maybe I'll ask Papa later. For now, I stare at Michael, hoping he'll say yes. I can tell Daddy doesn't want to move, I don't want him to be sad. "Fine. _Fine._ We'll try it that way. Gabriel can find a place nearby and Mr. Johnson will be removed. But if anything happens, one little thing, we do it my way."

"Thank you, Michael."

"Once a month we have a family gathering, everyone is expected to make it," he tells Daddy. "You will also be expected to, how do you humans put it? Help the family business."

"Michael, we talked about this," Papa says.

"I could use a hunter on my team. Sam Winchester is the best. Oh, did you think I meant Dean? No. He won't be hunting at all anymore."

Now Daddy loses his cool. "Believe me Michael, if Dean didn't have to hunt anymore, I wouldn't take him hunting, but he _needs_ it."

Papa loses his cool too, though he didn't have much to begin with. "Sam can hunt for you if he wants of course, but I don't want him forced into anything he doesn't want to do. Some of our tasks are considered morally questionable by humans."

I can see Michael's ready to start throwing things again. Papa and Daddy know it too, they're being careful. Michael runs hands through his hair, disheveling it; he looks a bit crazy. "How do I put this? No. You two will obey me and stop making requests. I've already conceded to one demand. That's as much generosity as you'll get from me today."

I'm finished my bottle, it makes a loud suction sound as I pull it out and I hand it to Papa, who passes it to Daddy. I put my soother back in my mouth. I'm restless and want to move, but I'm a bit afraid to get down. I don't think Papa needs me so much now, but I think I need him. I tug on his coat. "Papa, we can play?" I say around my soother.

"Not right now, Butterfly. Soon."

"Nonsense, Castiel. Dean, would you like to see the things Gadreel brought in here while we finish talking?" Michael asks.

I look to Daddy and Papa to see if that's okay. "Go ahead, Dean. We'll be right here if you change your mind," Daddy says.

I nod and squirm down, leaving my blanket with Papa, but taking Bun with me and crawl toward where Gadreel has stood. "I have a book here and I've read it three hundred and sixty-two times to make sure you'd like it and that I could get the voices right. Can I read it to you Dean? Please, please, pretty please?"

He's overwhelming. I can feel a wave of anxiety pool in my gut and I freeze up. "Calm down Gadreel, or you won't be playing with him," Michael says.

"Sorry. I'm excited to play with the baby."

"Never-the-less, control yourself."

"Sorry, Dean. I'll calm down. Would you like me to read you the book?"

I look at Daddy one more time. There's so much hope in his eyes. I take a deep breath and nod.

**

Dean is fast asleep when we get home, so I put him down in his room. He played really well with Gadreel, I was so proud of him. I slip off his jeans and tuck him in with Bun and his blanket then head down to my husband.

Cas is angry. He's doing a good impression of Michael right now. I think he's refraining from throwing things. "I'm sorry, Sam." I can hear everything in those words. He couldn't protect me, he couldn’t stop Michael… but none of that can squash the roaring within him, the one that wants me to be the thing he throws around the room, so he can feel that things are good again.

I need that too.

I want to feel the power the rage, I want to fight him, bite him, I want to work my frustrations physically.

He's facing the bookshelf, both hands pressed against wood, his head hung, his body on fire. I yank him from behind and spin him to kiss me then slam him against the books. For a moment, he lets me win, sprawled against the bookcase as I jam my tongue inside and gnash teeth. I press my lips so hard against his, I hope there are bruises, like the ones on his neck from Michael that shouldn't be there—no one should get to bruise my husband but me.

Cas gives me that much, that one pounding kiss then he gives me the other thing I want; he fights back. He grabs my face, a hand to each side and uses it to guide me the couch. "This isn't going to be nice Sam."

"I don’t want nice." I start pushing his jacket off as he undoes my tie and removes it then rips my white button up open, tearing it off of me. He does the same with the white undershirt I'm wearing, 'till I'm just in my black slacks. That's when I decide he's got too many clothes. I begin working his tie off as he reaches for the crotch of my pants and unzips me.

I stop him there, if he wants me, he can force me. I want to be made to submit today. It's a strange alpha conundrum—I'm actually quite dominant, so much so, I want a stronger alpha to make me submit and that's Cas by the way.

And Cas wants me. He doesn't like that I'm denying him, he pushes my hands out of the way and laces his fingers into one of my hands in effort to control it, pulling me in for a kiss, which leads to kissing down my neck in the way he knows I like, in a way that I can't resist so I sink into it; then he bites my bare shoulder and I have to muffle my scream into his.

He uses the moment of shock to sweep me to the floor and he straddles me, so I'm pinned to the floor. It works for a second, because Cas is much stronger than I am and he's using a lot of his angel strength right now, but he has to take his focus off me to undo his pants; I seize that opportunity to flip us and pin him.

From there it's even less pretty. We battle for dominance, one that I want him to win, but I'm not going to let him win. We punch, kick bite and tumble alternating who's on top, pausing to kiss in kisses we can't resist, have to have like a sin; ripping at each other's clothing, 'till Cas is in nothing but a shredded white rag that's covered in blood, his pants finally off (when they were around his ankles it gave me considerable advantage) and I'm completely naked, socks and all, equally covered in blood and cuts and bruises.

Finally he's had enough of the game, he scrapes around for his belt that I'd flung to the floor some time ago and he throws me face first over the couch, my knees falling to the cushions, my chest over the back rest and proceeds to use the belt to tie my hands behind my back.

I'm was about to kick him in the gut, I really was, but his mouth in my ass feels too god damned good and I spread my legs to give him better access. "Mmmmhh, yeah, please, Cas."

Cas slaps my ass and removes his tongue, his weight is suddenly on top of me, I can feel his dick on my back, my shoulders pull painfully when Cas uses his body to press on my hands at the small of my back. "You're going to be a good boy now, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. _Please._ " He's got me, I'm officially subdued, now, I'll do anything for his cock.

"That's a good start." He's off me again and I feel a wet finger pressing at my entrance. He alternates his tongue for a finger, it's unfair when he reaches a hand around to stroke my cock as he continues to finger my hole.

I'm begging and moaning and "Cas, please, just stick your cock in me dammit." I get a hefty slap for that to remind me to behave.

"Careful. I'm going to stick my cock in you, but I don't have to let you come."

I know that's true. His angel powers can make that happen, or I guess not happen, no cock ring required, though we do use that stuff for fun sometimes. "Yes, sir."

For my demanding attitude, he makes me wait for it, continuing to drive me crazy with his tongue his fingers and his hand on my cock, adding spanks to that mix that feel so good.

At long last, I feel the head of his cock nudge my hole then it's sinking inside hard and fast. He pounds into me without mercy or regret, holding my tied hands as I try to use the back of the couch to muffle my cries a little. It burns so good and I get lost in the feeling of him filling me as he relishes in dominating me.

He does let me come as he releases inside me; I come all over the couch and press back into him not wanting to lose the connection grateful he's allowed himself to knot so he can stay in me awhile longer.

He unties me and from there it's tricky, but we manage to maneuver, so we're in front of the fireplace with pillows and blanket from the couch, still joined. Cas uses his angel mojo to light a fire.

With all our rage worked out, we're gentle with each other now. Cas kisses my neck from behind and traces over marks I've acquired from our battle. He'll heal us both when we've gotten this aggressive, so Dean doesn't find out, but he knows I like to feel the marks; let them burn and ache for a bit before he does. He traces over one on my ribcage, that one will be under my shirt... "Can I keep that one Cas?"

"Fuck Sam. Are you crazy? No. You should see how big it is." We're quiet for a time as he checks me over, tracing around more marks and squeezing his body against mine, renewing their burn, so I can feel them. He settles on one over my shoulder. "You may keep this one, but you can't let Dean see."

I smile. "Thank you, Cas."

"If he was willing to stand up to Michael for what he did to me, imagine what he'd do to me for hurting you."

That gets a laugh out of me.

"Besides, you've got this one right here that's pretty fancy," he says running his fingers over my tattoo.

It's a beautiful tattoo. It's in Enochian as promised and Cas loves touching it and sending me waves of feeling through it. He does that now, filling me with yet more warmth and love. "I love you, Cas."

"I love you too, Sam. I'm sorry about my family. I'm sorry I can't do much about them. They're going to be overbearing."

"It's okay, Cas and it doesn't matter."

"You were devastated about the moving, Baby."

"At first, but all that really matters is us being a family. I don't care about the rest and I'm not spending our lives fighting Michael. The deal breaker is him harming Dean of course, which I don't think I have to worry about—he seems to be going to a lot of trouble to protect Dean."

"I've noticed."

"Does it concern you?"

"A little. Dean's not in danger from Michael, I'm certain of that. In fact, Dean's got Michael wrapped around his little finger. The part that concerns me is that Michael can tend to be… well you saw and now you're experiencing him flex his possessive, controlling 'muscles.' He doesn't care about human ethics or morals, he'll do as he sees fit."

I nod. "Well we have an ace up our sleeves. Dean may look all cute and cuddly, but given the right circumstances, he bites."

Cas laughs and squeezes me again, lighting up my body anew. "You like how that feels, huh Baby?"

"I do. I like feeling you Cas. Especially when you're away. When do you go away again?"

"Not for a week, Michael read about the honeymoon tradition humans have after their weddings. He even offered 'childcare' for Dean, but I told him Dean wouldn't like to be away from us, so he gave up on that, but he still gave me the week off."

"Good." I pull his arms around me tighter.

Cas sucks on my neck, my cock is already hardening again, Cas starts to stroke it. "Don't worry husband mine, I'll make sure that this time you'll feel me while I'm gone."

**

Bun-Bun looks different this time. Like he's lost weight. He's thin like a pencil, but he's still soft as I collide with him, running, running to get away. My heart pounding, the fear coursing through me. He puts his arms around me this time, hugging me a long time as the vines close up behind us. He feels like Daddy and I'm so glad he's my friend. "It's okay my little omega. Nothing will hurt you. Not ever again." 


	11. Family Struggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Poof* Here I am! I have been working on a TON of stuff, I promise. Just... nothing has been postable. 
> 
> Updates: 
> 
> WW: Have a long chapter mostly written. 2 more to go before I post. 
> 
> GUW a TS: Have a 22K TS almost ready *hopes* Posting Soon. You'll get to see some teen!Dean
> 
> MMY: Have 1.5 chapters for this. 
> 
> FY: In the works.

Bun and I are playing school. He sits at the 'front', while I sit at a smaller desk and do my 'work.' We're still outside in the clover field. Bumblebees are buzzing at my feet. He looks different now, Bun that is. He's changed quite a bit. For instance, he wears clothes now; a black blazer, white-button-up and slacks—he's kinda fancy. He's thin like a pencil. His head is the same as always, lifeless button eyes, mouth that's a simple threaded 'x,' but sometimes his 'paws' turn into hands with fingers.

"Did you do your homework, Mr. Dean Winchester?" His mouth still doesn't move, but his voice isn't all far away and ghostly like it had been, almost like hearing him in my head. Now, I hear him aloud as if he's spoken, but his lips don't move. He's saying stuff all the same. I smile at him shyly and giggle.

"No." I hide my face behind one of my hands.

"You know what I do to little boys who don't finish their homework," Bun says standing up. I get a nervous tingle in my tummy, which rises as he gets closer. "I tickle them." Bun's paws, which become fingers, tickle under my armpits and into my torso.

I squeal. "Bun! Stop it Bun!"

Bun does stop, but scoops me up to sit on his lap, taking my seat at the desk. "Since you couldn't do your homework yourself, I shall help you. Get your pencil, please."

I had to teach Bun some nice manners, like Daddy teaches me. He's not always good at them. I pick up the pencil. "Come on, three things that are nice about you, what's number one?'

This is where I get shy and snuggle into Bun. "Oh no you don't. No snuggling 'till this is done my boy. One."

Bun is so strict. "Okay," I say put out. "Um, I do nice things for people. Like, like when I picked up all my toys for Daddy."

"I think you were told to pick up your toys, but acceptable." Bun helps me write that down; I can't spell all the words.

"Two."

"I'm a good artist. Like when I drew Michael, my friend. He really liked it Bun."

"He did. Very much," Bun says pushing the hair out of my eyes. "Okay, write that down." Bun helps me with that too, 'cept I know how to spell Michael. I got Daddy to help me learn that one and I remembered.

"Last, then your homework will be done and we can play."

The last one I think of, I can hardly say. "I, I, I'm beautiful. Papa's beautiful butterfly. He tells me all the time, a'cept…" my voice skips as tears pool and I try to finish. "A'cept, Bun, he's gone. He's been gone a long time. H-how come Papa didn't come back yet?" I can't write anymore and I'm full-fledged crying. Bun cards fingers through my hair.

"Dean, we talked about this. Papa has to work."

"I, I know."

"Papa works and then he can buy you things. Like toys. You like toys, don't you?"

"Yeah, but, b-but, I like Papa more. I miss him. Don't need the toys. Can I trade them for Papa?"

Bun looks like he would scowl if he could. "Don’t you like hanging out with me and your new friend Michael?"

Oh. Maybe Bun's feelings are hurt? "Yeah, I do. Lots and lots, but Bun, he's Papa. There's a, a special paper and, and…" I don't know how to explain it so he'll understand and his feelings won't be hurt. Is this the last day we're going to get to play together?

Bun looks like he wants to twist his lips, but only for a moment, then he relaxes. "It's okay my little omega. I think your papa will be home very soon. Can you wait just a little longer?"

Not really, but I nod into his chest, which is not as soft as it used to be.

Suddenly, Bun has a soother for me, he pops it in my mouth and I take a few quick pulls on it, until I settle into a rhythm. He wipes at my tears. "There now, enough tears. We're going to play a little longer then it will be time for you to go and when you wake up, there will be a surprise waiting for you."

**

I open my eyes when I feel weight sink the bed and a hand to my forehead. "Cas? _Cas!_ You're home." I try not to shout too loud, the baby is sleeping and scramble to sit up so I can wrap my arms around my husband.

Cas smiles a soft smile. He looks bedraggled. "I missed you guys so much." We put our arms around each other and bathe one another in scent. Cas doesn't have the physical need like I do, but over time, he's grown a psychological one. Sure he's learned the appropriate times to scent one of us, but now, it's something he desires. It doesn't take long for our clothes to be off and for us to be having rough, colliding, _I missed you_ sex. Then we lay tangled up together, under the sheets, well after my knot has gone down and I drift off as Cas rests.

I wake to the sound of telltale diaper-crinkling. Dean never used to leave his bed 'till I came to get him, but lately, since his papa's been gone, he's been wandering in here to climb in with me, hoping one of the times, he'll find Papa here; like maybe I've secretly been hoarding to myself. Now it looks like I have been.

I open my eyes to see sleepy looking Dean in nothing but his diaper, soother in his mouth, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and twisting at his hair with the other. He looks so _little_ right now. I want to scoop him up and snuggle him to death, but I know I'm not going to be the one he wants to see right now—I don't blame him.

"Papa? Papa!" He stands frozen, crying; they're the most heartbreaking sobs. His soother falls out.

"Oh… little one, c'mere. Papa's here." Cas is on the other side of the bed, so he has to get up, revealing his naked self and lift a crying Dean to him. Dean doesn't stop crying, but he does latch onto Cas like he's trying to hook him here forever. "Shh… Shh… It's okay. Papa's here," Cas says swaying him back and forth.

Dean's cries quiet down a little, but they don't stop. Fat tears roll down his red cheeks and he almost looks a bit mad. He looks exactly like a baby whose mama went out for the night; he's confused as to why Cas was gone so long and did you abandon me? As well as, don't ever do that again.

"Sam, would you mind grabbing me a bottle and maybe some pants?"

Dean won't calm down. "Sure, Cas." I run down and make a bottle up quick as I can. I've got a few prepped. I've been trying to do them like Cas does for Dean; it's been rough the last couple weeks. Dean's used to Cas coming and going, but this one was longer than usual. Michael's pissed at us, but Dean's suffering too.

I race, still naked, back up the stairs. Dean hasn't calmed any since I left the two of them, still grief-stricken and making sure Papa knows, by telling Papa all about it between cries. I'm only able to make any of it out because I know him so well, but even I can't understand most of the mumbo jumbo. "I know. I know Butterfly, Papa's sorry."

"Don' wa-want the toys Papa. Don' wan'em…"

Huh? I have to think about that one a second, because it makes no sense with any of our days. I have to guess that it comes from Michael, living in Dean's head, posing as Bun. I've had a few chats with Michael over that; looks like we're going to have to have another. Cas looks at me confused as I hand him the bottle. "Dean, why don't you drink that for Papa? Show him what a good boy you are." Yeah, I know. That's a bit of a dirty trick, but he's got to calm down. He's going to make himself sick. He's done that before—crying 'till he pukes.

Dean lets Cas pop the bottle in, leaning his head back in such a way that he can drink the bottle and keep two eyes on Cas the whole time. "Go sit in the rocking chair with him," I tell Cas. "I'll be in with some clothes for you."

Cas leaves with Dean and I take the opportunity to fume at Michael in my head and get dressed. It's times like these I want to find myself an archangel blade and drive it through him—he's not been easy on us. He's gotten the idea, that Cas has forgotten his place and he's reestablishing that lesson, having decided it's just as well that both of us learn.

I head into Dean's room and indulge in watching Dean and Cas rocking together a moment. Dean's looking up to Cas, very serious, wet faced and teary-eyed as Cas talks to him and tells Dean all about how much he's missed him. I put fresh clothes for Cas on the bed, no idea how he's going to get into them. Dean's not letting go for a while. Instead, I tuck a blanket under Dean then wrap it around him so he can feel cozier.

"Thank you Sam."

I start pulling out some clothes for Dean and a new diaper because I can see his badly needs changing. _This is gonna be fun._ We let Dean take his time, slowly finishing his bottle and spending time with Papa. His tears finally stop, so I leave to grab a washcloth for his face as Cas takes the bottle away and reaches for one of Dean's other soothers on the nightstand. When I return this time, there is a lot of scenting going on from both and the pair of them are talking. "Papa would never go away forever. Promise. I'm sorry it was so long."

"Papa, I was scared."

"You were? Did Daddy help you out?"

Dean nods. "Yeah an', an' I slept inna big bed."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dean says, eyes still serious. "I will sleep there with you tonight, okay Papa?"

Cas looks up to me, I nod. "Of course." Dean finally starts to relax, but that's short-lived once we decide we should change him. Cas attempts to, unsuccessfully, lay him on the bed. "C'mon Butterfly, we have to get you out of your wet diaper so you don't get an icky rash."

I help Cas pry Dean's hand off of him and Dean begins to wail. "Just, get dressed Cas. I'll do this quick." I'd ask Cas to use his grace, but he looks exhausted. And I am quick, but it doesn't feel quick. Dean loses his soother, his faces scrinches up, eyes closed, screaming. Cas dresses in a panic, in casual jeans and a t-shirt (one of mine—yeah, I'm feeling like I want more than just my scent on him too) I don't even try to console Dean, knowing only one thing will console him, and instead work quickly to change him.

"Papa! _Papa!_ "

"Papa's right here Dean," Cas tries. Dean makes reach-y hands for him.

"Almost done sweetheart." I tape him up quick, not bothering to dress him (I can do that stealthily while Cas holds him) and Cas comes to swoop him up.

Dean's not so easy to soothe this time (not that it was all that easy the first time) he cries so hard, his bottle come right back up and all over Cas, which only makes Dean cry more. "S'okay, it's okay baby boy. Look, watch what Papa can do." Tired or not, this time Cas does use a little of his angel mojo and Cas and Dean are cleaned right up. Dean's cries ease off a little, but it's because he's tiring out, not because he's feeling better. He does curl tighter into Cas. Cas looks over at me, _what do we do?_ in his eyes. Dean's puking incident scared him and he's gonna do it again if we don't do something fast.

I get an idea. I direct Cas to the rocking chair. "Sing to him, Cas. Just, fucking sing."

Cas sits and arranges Dean comfortably, he starts rocking and singing the song Dean likes. He won't stop crying though; the capacity of Dean's lungs is becoming, impressive. Cas rubs his back, alternates between singing and sweet words. We try to give him another soother, it works for a second then is on the floor the next. Cas gets up to walk around with him and bounce him and sway him.

Dean pukes a second time.

We go at this for hours realizing we're not going to be able to calm him no matter what we do; we're waiting on him to tire out. Whatever we do, we don't try to take him away from Cas again. When we reach the third hour I can't take it anymore. Not because I'm irritated with Dean, because my heart's breaking for Dean and I want to yell at the one responsible.

Like a crazy man, I head out to the porch (Dean won't even know I've left) and yell to the sky. "Michael! Get your ass here right now!"

Of course he doesn't come to me. Gabriel shows up and without a word, I'm escorted to Michael. He's sitting at his desk, pretending not to pay attention to me. After I've stood there like an idiot for several minutes and when I've finally decided how I'm going to tell him off, he speaks. "This is not how it works. You do not summon me. I summon you."

"You took Cas away from us. You're the reason Dean's upset."

"Upset?"

"Yeah. He's been crying for hours, puking… on top of him having been upset all week. I know you're trying to punish us, but you're punishing him in the process—it's not fair."

Michael's features twist to the right. Thinking. "I didn't mean for him to be _that_ upset."

"Well that's the thing with humans, especially humans that are broken inside, you can't dictate how upset they'll get. Look, I get it, this is a temper tantrum because Cas said Dean's not having a sleepover here. Fine. You win Michael, but you don't get it for free—you're not sending Cas away for this long again _and_ you cancel wherever else you have it planned for Cas to go in the immediate future."

Cas's language didn't escape me. He hasn't told Dean in all the hours of cooing that he's not going away any time soon, or even that he's here for a while. That's because he's not going to be—unless I can do something about it.

"You know, I could just take Dean," he smirks. "I don't have to negotiate with you."

He's right. "Yeah, you could Michael and I invite you to try. You know as well as I do how that would go over with Dean. Then we'd see if you really do care about him, or if this is all some fucked up fascination you have." Michael may be a controlling, sadistic douchebag, but he's intelligent and I think he does care about Dean. He knows not having both my and Cas's support would result in a 'sleepover' from hell with Dean, in which he'd be experiencing what we are right now and he can see how it feels to have your heart ripped out of your chest over and over; if he even has a heart. As much as I don't want to put Dean through that, maybe it needs to happen for Michael to stop this insanity; it would be better in the long run.

"Does Castiel know you're agreeing to this?"

"No. I'll worry about Cas. Do we have a deal?"

"Hmmm, delicious. He'll be angry with you. I can't wait to see that, it's like you're sweetening the deal for me, but you weren't, were you?"

"Not likely."

"Too bad, I was beginning to think you were smarter than you looked."

He gets mean when he's angry; I can tell he's working to not pulverize me. This isn't the first time I've been here this month.

"Very well. But Sam?"

"What?"

" _Careful._ Watch the attitude. I was going to say you may want to pay attention to the things I like; this is only the first of many negotiations."

"I thought you didn't negotiate, sir?" I decide toning down my attitude is a good idea. He's at his limit and going home with something to remember him by isn't going to help Cas's mood, especially when I tell him what I've done.

"It would appear that I do. Now get out. I don't want to see you for at least a week… no wait, I've got a better idea. You two are coming for dinner tonight."

He wants to see the Cas and Sam show? Fine, but he'll also get a good dose of cranky Dean. "Yes, sir. I'll tell—" I don't get to say anymore before I'm whisked home again.

The house is eerily quiet. I creep inside to find Cas on the couch with Dean. Cas manages to look more terrible than he did earlier. Dean's curled into Cas, still naked save his diaper, holding onto his papa for all he's worth. Cas has finally worked a soother into him, one that's stayed and he's furiously sucking it while he twists and twists his hair. His eyes are open and glassed over, still doing the shuddery breathing of someone who's been crying for a length of time, releasing the odd, soft whimper.

I sit down next to Cas and grab his hand. "He's quiet," I say.

"Yes, Sam. The singing finally worked. Where were you?"

"I, Cas I’m sorry. I went to see Michael."

"And?"

"I'm sorry," I know I've already said it. "But you can't go away again that long and you need to stay with us for a bit."

"You agreed didn't you?"

"I, yeah I did."

Cas takes his hand away; it suddenly feels very cold in here. We're, the three of us, quiet for twenty minutes (I know, I watched the clock) before Cas speaks. "Can you still see that paper over there?" Cas asks. I know the one he's referring to, Dean's adoption paper, with the waxy, red letters, hung close to the ground so Dean can look at it even when he's crawling around.

"I can, Cas."

"Oh good. I thought maybe it had become invisible." Cas's voice is calm and quiet, but I can feel the thunder there that wants to erupt.

"Cas I know—"

"—I'm still talking. That paper means I'm meant to be part of the decisions with Dean and I said no. I'm not comfortable with Dean having a sleepover with anyone yet, let alone Michael."

I nod, not feeling it right to speak.

"It would appear that you understood all of this and that you went ahead with it anyway."

Cas can sometimes be so robotic and 'angel' over things, it's hard to remember that he'll react with so much _feeling_ with anything having to do with Dean or me. I can't deny any of it. "We also have to be at dinner tonight."

Cas nods stand with Dean. "Very well." He's so cold and indifferent to me, it makes my insides feel like ice.

"Wait, Cas."

"I need some… space. I'll see you for dinner."

Cas walks off with Dean (who still won't want to be parted from Papa yet, not even going to go there) and I feel empty. It's the same sort of empty, like when someone leaves your life. It's dramatic and irrational, Cas will forgive me eventually, won't he? but I feel that none-the-less. Dean's blanket's on the side of the couch, the yellow one, the color of hope.

_Hope is more powerful than fear._

I can't stop from crying, but I can clutch it to me and hope instead of being afraid of any other option.

**

Michael gets his wish and I get mine too.

Things are tense between Cas and I as we get Dean ready to go for dinner. Dean won't close his eyes and go to sleep, so he's cranky and clingy. Cas has to hold him as I pull the onsie over his head and do up the snaps. Certainly, we could just get Cas to wave his grace around for everything, but both Cas and I agree that's not the way we want to live, so he uses it for some things and not others. It's not easy, but we can manage this. Though gotta say, I might have asked Cas to use his grace to change his diaper earlier if I knew he was going to cry like that.

Dean is not impressed when I tell him he's wearing a hoodie over his onsie. "I don't want to wear that, Daddy."

"I don't know how late we're going to be Dean."

"I'm flying us, Sam. The hoodie won't be necessary."

That irks me. I know what I did was the same thing, worse even, but he's just being petty. "He's not wearing any pants, Cas."

"Michael can make it any temperature we like."

"Oh, now Michael's a good guy?"

"We should go," Cas says.

That's the last thing I feel like doing, but there isn't another choice. We were told to arrive promptly at five. I stuff the hoodie into the diaper bag anyway, kinda pissed. Cas holds out his hand, obligated to touch me, so we can fly to Michael's. I take it, but I want to touch him about as much as he wants to touch me.

We both are quick to divest ourselves of the other once we arrive in the entryway.

It's a large, mansion-type looking home. I'm hesitant to call it a 'home' considering it's not on Earth. Not this one. I've learned that Michael has both a place on Earth and one in Heaven. I've been to both and know the difference. We're not on Earth now. We're in this possible angel figment.

Gadreel greets us. Cas stops him before he even asks, not in any kind of mood. "The baby isn't in a good mood for playing, Gadreel. Upset him and I'll spank you."

"Jeez," he says blushing at getting a spanking threat in front of me and putting a hand in his pocket, kicking the ground. "I never get to play with him."

"Gadreel, behave yourself."

"I'm tellin' Michael. You're being mean." Gadreel runs off and I think he's crying. Great. This is a perfect start to the evening.

"Did you have to be such a dick to him, Cas?"

"He's my brother."

"Fine. Right back at you."

"Apparently."

"Oh, would you look at this? And I had spanakopita planned as an appetizer," Michael says strolling up to us. "But please don't stop on account of me."

Gadreel is with him holding Michael's hand, sniffling. I keep getting told that Cas is the favorite, but thus far, Michael's been pissed at Cas, so I haven't seen a lot of 'favoritism.' I think Cas is about to get told off. "But you will apologize to your younger brother, Castiel. Your marital problems are not cause to treat others poorly." Michael's enjoying every moment of this.

"We don't have… I apologize Gadreel. Dean is upset and not in a good mood for playing. Better?"

"Much. Come along. Dinner is ready."

"You didn't have to cook on account of us, Michael," I say as we follow. "We could have eaten before we came." Angels don't eat, but they can and do when we come over.

"Nonsense. I know meals are custom number one with humans. They are important for fostering family bonds."

We enter the dining room, Cas fuming, Dean a fuss-pot and me, exhausted and well a bit angry myself. I'm certain none of us feel like partaking in this ritual. Michael has a highchair set up for Dean, which he normally likes, but right now I think he's going to be crazy-glued to Papa.

"Well, come on Dean, I can put you into your high chair," Michael says reaching his arms out. Dean and Michael have become friends. I have to admit, when it comes to Dean, Michael is good with him. They've reached a point where they can play together and he will go to Michael, but there's no chance of that happening now. It's my turn to enjoy.

"No. I'm not wearing that hoodie, I'm not sitting in that chair and I'm not. Leaving. Papa!" Dean holds Cas tighter and it's clearer now what's he's been doing this whole time—guarding him. Like someone might take him a way. He's not wrong. I'm silently proud of Dean for being so demanding. I'm proud he can do it at all.

"Hoodie?" Michael asks. I shake my head. "This is nonsense Dean. You have your papa back, you're not supposed to be sad anymore. It's time to go in your highchair." Said highchair is conveniently next to Michael. I'm on the other side, since I'm usually the one feeding him. I don't say anything to Michael as he continues, Hell bent on prying Dean from Cas, letting Michael create his own funeral. Sure as death and taxes, soon as Michael manages to unlock Dean's hands from Cas's shirt, Dean howls.

Still not getting it, Michael proceeds to strap Dean into the highchair, his soother having fallen out, so he can cry louder. "Dean," Michael says firmly. "That's enough now."

It's firm enough Dean's scared into crying quietly, but the tears keep falling and somehow it's worse. Dean stares forlornly at Cas, whimpering now and then. Michael tries to carry on like it's not bothering him. "There. We're going to have a nice dinner, aren't we?" Michael says to Dean, using his thumbs to wipe away tears on either side of Dean's face, which are quickly replaced by more tears.

"Pa-Papa…"

"You'll have plenty of Papa later."

"What's going on in here Michael?" That's Gabe. He's actually pretty cool. Kind of irritating at times, but we get along and I've gotten to know him since he moved into our neighborhood after they ousted Mr. Johnson. No one, not even Cas will tell me what was done with him. He stopped in while Cas was gone. I know it was to check on us (so he could report back to Michael) but he stayed and hung out longer than he needed to. Dean likes him too. "Aww, pumpkinhead, you need your uncle Gabe to fly you around like an airplane?"

"There will be no airplane rides at the dinner table. Sit down Gabriel. He'll be fine once we start eating," Michael says.

Balthazar enters next. "How long is this going to take? I have a meeting with an artifacts dealer in Zimbabwe."

They've become a lot more open with their _family business_ around me.

"What's an artifacts dealer doing in Zimbabwee, Balthy?" Gabe asks.

Balthazar shrugs. "Fucked if I know. I don't ask why humans to what they do, nor do I care."

"Language," Michael says.

"Right, sorry. What's wrong with it? Why's it, I mean, he crying?"

I don't take offence to that. Balthazar doesn't mean 'it' as a slight to either of us. He just slips up sometimes. Angels are surprisingly not very pro-human. They're not anti-human either, they're just, well it's like what humans think of bugs, but a little better.

"Dean is fine."

"Papa," Dean whimpers all broken. Michael visibly cringes and I can tell Dean's weeping is starting to get to Cas too.

"Food, where's the food?" Michael's getting edgy.

"Here sir." A door opens and several humans come out of a door that must lead to the kitchen, carrying plates. Michael insisted on the food being _made_ and since none of the angels know how to cook, he claimed he 'hired' the humans for nights we're here. I really don't think the humans 'work' for him—they look too terrified for that.

We all get a plate of food, including Dean. "I had them make you your favorite, grilled cheese."

"Papa… Please. I wan' Papa." Dean's cries start again. Michael tries carding a hand through Dean's hair, which Dean politely sits through, staring at his papa.

"Eat your dinner, Dean," Michael says while getting increasingly agitated. Not in an angry way. He doesn't like Dean's crying, he just doesn't know how to handle it. Michael, who usually does a good job pretending like he enjoys his meal, can't even look at it. He spends his time, twirling his fork.

I finally step in, not for Michael's sake, he can go hang himself, for Dean. "Here sweetheart. Eat this and you can go back to Papa." I break off a piece of grill cheese and offer it to Dean.

"G-go see Papa?" he asks as he takes the cheesy bread from me.

"Yah-huh. Just gotta eat some of this."

Dean does start eating, but everything's super awkward. We all know how upset he is, even Michael who's having a harder time denying it.

Gadreel tries to lighten the mood. "You know what Sam? I, I built a big tower today. I was hoping to uh, to show it to Dean, but I can do it another day that's okay."

Poor kid. Gadreel is young for an angel, but children's vessels are hard to come by. I mean, he is a few hundred years old, but in angel time that's like eight human years… ish. No one's been able to give me an exact conversion. I've asked. Suffice to say he acts like a kid because he _is_ a kid. More or less. I kinda get the impression he's a bit young even for his 'age.'

"You know Gadreel, even if he doesn't see it tonight, we'll make sure he sees it, okay?"

"Kay. Thanks Sam." He's sweet.

In case I forgot about him, Dean reminds me he's there and still only interested in doing what he needs to do to get to Papa. "Daddy." He points to his grill cheese impatiently, because I'm supposed to give it to him. Of course he can grab it himself, but he's lost all bravado for the time being.

"Sorry, Peaches." Not even that makes him smile.

Cas is getting fed up, but he's trying to refrain from what Michael will call misbehaving. "Michael, please. He's hysterical."

"He's _fine._ He's eating his dinner like a nice boy, aren't you Dean?"

"Papa?" Dean says pointing at his Papa, pleading.

Michael slams his fist down on the table, we all jump. "The rule is, you eat your dinner nicely in your chair. _Then_ you may go see Papa." Papa is a growl. Huh…. _huh_ … If I didn't know better, I'd say Michael's jealous.

In any case, Dean's not saying a word after that. He wipes at his eyes, tired after all the crying and missing his afternoon nap. I continue to pass Dean food. "He's tired, why does he look so tired?" Michael asks.

"He missed his nap, Michael. He was crying all afternoon because he missed his papa and you're making it worse by continuing this." Yeah I said it.

"I think it's because you two weren't competent enough to put him down for a nap. Not to worry, when he stays over here he'll be put to bed at a reasonable hour." Michael smiles a nasty smile, knowing that will goad Cas on. It does.

"I did not consent to that," Cas says and _I_ get glared at.

"Leave it alone, Cas."

"Yes, listen to your husband and leave it alone Castiel."

"He had no right. No. He's not staying here yet, Michael. You can forget it."

"You know, I hear Zimbabwe is good this time of year," Michael says.

"It's for one night Cas," I interject.

"I don't care if it's for one tenth of a night. The answer's still no."

That pisses me off. "I already said yes, you can't say no when I've said yes."

"I just did, Sam."

Michael's smiling again. "He's right, Castiel. He already said yes. Besides, he's Dean's brother. Blood is thicker than water as I believe the human saying goes. His decision has more weight."

We have a different saying in our home though, Cas knows I don't believe that. "I have a paper that says I'm one of Dean's alphas, I have equal say. Sam was mistaken earlier. We are going to discuss it, again, and we will give you _our_ answer."

I am equal parts embarrassed and turned on right now. Cas is telling everyone, including me how it's going to go; while also telling me what wasn't okay with him. Gabe and Balthazar are both impressed and intrigued.

Dean's staring at Cas, too afraid to say anything now, but I can just hear his inner monologue, pleading with Cas to come get him as he twists his hands together, over and over and over each other in fists. I smooth my hair back with both hands then start Dean on the other half of his sandwich.

"Why are you being impossible, Castiel?" Michael asks.

"Because I've seen nothing as of yet that says what you want is going to go over well. I have received further confirmation of that tonight." Cas looks to Dean in a case and point sort of way.

Dean's gone back to rubbing his eyes and I can tell he's not going to eat anymore, so I start cleaning him up. This whole dinner was a disaster. No one's been eating, except for Gadreel who was scolded severely at the last 'dinner.' Poor little guy. I think I'm going to start having him over for play dates.

Cas pushes his plate out of the way and stands up making his way over to Dean, who puts his arms out. "Papa…" Dean's set off crying again.

"It's okay, Butterfly. Don't cry anymore."

Even Michael looks relieved to have Cas pull Dean into his arms. I don't know what Michael was trying to prove. "You're tired, aren't you?"

"Noooo, Papa." Dean clings tighter.

"Remember you're going to sleep in the big bed with me?"

Just with Cas? Am I no longer invited?

"Michael, this was silly. Send me to Zimbabwe if you have to. I have to do what's best for Dean, for my family. When you learn to do the same, then he may stay over, not before."

I don't like what that means, but at the same time, I'm so damned turned on by all of Cas's command and presence. I'm also worried, Michael really doesn't like being told like that. "May we be excused? I have a little one to put to bed."

Michael's too stunned to give anymore than a grunt and a wave of his hand. "Sam." I jump when Cas says my name. "Come on." He holds out his hand for me; I take it and we're gone.


	12. The One Where Cas Doesn't Go to Zimbabwe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is a little short, but it just... ended! There was simply no more that needed happen in this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you can see I'm slowly updating all my stories. I'm getting there. I have a ton to write. I'm also slow to get back to comments as I continue to catch up, but I *will* answer them ALL. You are all very important to me <3 Mock.

When we arrive home, Dean is no less cranky. "Papa, you can play with me?" All of that is said in a whiney voice that says playing is not advised.

"We're going to bed now Dean. We'll play tomorrow," Cas says.

Of course this results in yet more tears. _How does he have any left?_

It still doesn't look as if I'm invited. So I kiss Dean's head and move to leave to prepare the couch planning to slink into Dean's bed later since they'll be in our bed. I'm the one in the doghouse anyway. I deserve the couch.

"Sam, what are you doing? Didn't you hear me? I said we're going to bed. That means you too."

The way he says that is thrilling. I follow without saying a word. Cas doesn't bother with teeth brushing, or pajamas for Dean, he pulls back the covers and lays Dean and himself down while I do opt for some pajamas, I need a moment. Things still don't feel right between Cas and I; I'm feeling nervous.

When I return, shirtless, in nothing but pajama pants, Dean's crying has been reduced to whimpers, as he loses the battle with his eyelids. Cas hums to him in his low, rumbly voice and rubs Dean's back. I don't want to disturb them, so I sit in the chair beside the bed and wait. After some time, Dean's finally out cold. "Come to bed please, Sam," Cas says and I jump. I don't think Dean will wake up, but just in case, I'm careful when I slide in, feeling like I shouldn't be here.

"Go to sleep my Sam. We'll talk tomorrow."

I nod into my pillow. I know now's not the time, but it's hard waiting; I want things to be resolved, now. I'm tired too though and I realize just how tired when the darkness combined with the comfort of bed, makes my eyelids heavy.

The next day, Dean's still a clingy Papa's boy, but he's not crying, he's happy and wanting to play with Papa. He gets his wish and Cas plays with him all morning while I make meals and do chores and anything else to give them the space to reconnect. When Dean goes down for his nap (Cas was very stern with Dean when Dean thought to try and negotiate his nap) Cas approaches me.

He's still in the jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, his hair more frazzled than usual. He's not wearing socks and for some reason that gives me hope. You don't start a 'we're over' conversation without socks on, do you?

"Sam, we need to talk." His voice is rougher than it was last night. This is what I've wanted all day. I thought about how I would defend my actions, that if he really understood _why_ he'll see that although the way I went about them was wrong, letting Michael have his way is the best option.

I nod and put down my laundry. "Cas you can't go to Zimbabwe."

"I'm not letting Michael take Dean for the night. You saw him last night. Do you really think that's wise? What if he has an outburst with Dean there?"

"He won't hurt Dean."

"Not on purpose, but Michael is seldom careful when caught in one of his fits of rage."

"It's a risk I think we should take. Michael's in his head anyway, he can do the most damage there and Dean's only gotten better."

"Believe me I don't like that either and if I could keep Michael out of Dean's head, I would."

"Do you really think it's better, Dean going through this when you come back?"

"I do. My brother is acting irrationally. There is… some truth to the whole favoritism thing my other brothers claim. He's never been this caustic with me. We need to ride this out Sam, until he calms down."

"And how long will that be Cas? After you spend a year in Zimbabwe?"

He sighs. "I don't know."

"That's not okay with me Cas." I hate the not knowing and I know, my whole life is a life of not knowing, but Cas became this constant and it feels like that's changing. "Fine, if you're going to be gone, I might as well take Dean on a hunt; it will kill two birds with one stone. Dean will be distracted," and so will I, I don't say aloud.

"Are you crazy? Michael will flip. You can't take him hunting Sam."

"Now we're listening to Michael? Which is it Cas?" My voice rises a little, because this is confusing.

"It's about balance and knowing how Michael works. The being away from you guys is uncomfortable for us, but it's manageable; if we really piss him off things will get… ugly."

I run my hands through my hair. Maybe this is manageable for Cas, but it's starting to become unmanageable for me. "I need a compromise Cas. I'm willing to wait, but not forever on this—"

"You're going to have to, Sam."

Cas showing his alpha nature, challenges mine. Instinct makes me defensive. "No."

"Yes."

I get it. We're fighting over the same thing: How to best protect Dean, it's why neither of us is backing down. When we collide, I'm not surprised. From there, the battle is physical and while I may be a strong alpha, there's no question, Cas is stronger, but he fights fair in that he only uses an amount of strength equal to mine; we'll have to out smart the other to win.

We roll around on the ground slamming into the coffee table, the couch gets flipped, a lamp ends up smashed in the fireplace. We both forget about sleeping Dean upstairs.

We reach a point where we realize neither of us are winning and we're on our backs, clothes torn, bloody, scraped up. I don't want to fight with him anymore. "Fine. You win Cas. We'll do it your way."

"No. We'll… we'll do it your way." I should be happy about that, but it disappoints me somehow and we still don't feel right.

"But Cas. No."

He huffs. "Are we going to fight about this now?"

"No, we're not. I'm sorry, Cas."

"I'm sorry too." Still on his back, his hand reaches to find mine and when they interlace, he sits up, pulling me with him, 'till we're standing. "Anything broken?"

"No, but aren't you going to heal us anyway?"

"Not this time."

"But Dean…"

"I'll clean up the mess we've made of the living room, but not us. Dean will see that his daddies fight, Sam. If he's ever going to stay with Michael, he's going to have to toughen up. Maybe we shelter him a bit." Cas is talking, but with the way he's looking at me, I can tell he's thinking something else: He wants me.

I nod. "Cas I, I still need you to forgive me. No matter how much I thought we should go one way, I shouldn't have made that particular decision without you."

"No, you shouldn't have. Nor should I have said the things I said. I behaved deplorably. I was angry with you."

We get closer. "I was angry with you too." Closer still. Our lips are close.

"I hated it," we both say at the same time, our lips meet and the kiss is burning and sensual.

"I've never wanted to spank you so badly, Sam," Cas says when we pull apart. It takes my breath away.

"Do you, still want to?"

"A little," he smiles.

"I loved how you were last night Cas," I admit.

"You like when I take charge, Baby?"

"Fuck yeah. You know it."

"I do."

"You hold back, don't you?" I ask.

He nods.

I kiss him again. "Don't."

And he doesn't. Cas isn't gentle when he throws me over the couch (the one that's not sitting as it should be) and uses his angel strength to rip my jeans off. He starts spanking me, not worrying if the sound will wake Dean; he lets the sound of the slaps ring as they will. I feel my ass heating. It hurts, but I take it; I want to take whatever he'll give me and besides... I like it.

"Stop squirming. You deserve this."

When my ass is well-spanked and throbbing, Cas the perfect being he is, manages to remove his clothing without difficulty. The prep is short, only lube (he's pulled from somewhere) and his finger sliding into me a few times. It's only enough to make his cock glide, not enough to open me.

I don't care. It's perfect when he slams into me and I open for him anyway. I can't get enough of him in me. I keep reaching back for more even though he sinks in, right to the hilt each time. I push my ass out, hoping he'll spank it some more; he does and I hiss at the pain, enjoying the interplay of the two, the pain and pleasure.

Cas reaches a wet hand to my front, grasping my large cock hard, as I moan and pant and can't fucking take it anymore. He strokes me hard and tight as I nearly jump out of my skin with need. "F-fuck, _Cas_." I'm getting more desperate by the minute. The fighting already put my sex drive into gear, this, _this_ is driving me insane in the most wonderful of ways.

"I bet you'd like to come right now wouldn't you, Sam?"

"Please." My please is a moan as much as it is a plea. Cas continues to stroke me slow and hard, as he bites and nibbles at my neck. " _Please,_ " I say again.

"Good boy. Come."

He keeps his thrusts hard, as I come in spurts, into his hand. He's soon to follow filling me up, which I didn't know how much I needed tonight, until this moment.

We're sweaty, bloody and messy with come, but Cas pulls me to the floor with him and we lay together like that awhile; me just breathing and Cas running his fingers through my hair. "Cas, you can't go to Zimbabwe," I say again, in case it wasn't clear before.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere for some time. We have a little, but not so tiny negotiator on our side."

**

"All right, that's enough of this. You were inconsolable all last night. Are you going to repeat the same performance today as well?"

Bun is irritated.

"P-Papa, was gone," I tell him again anyway, even though I know that's why he's irritated. He was just as irritated last night, but it didn't stop him from snuggling with me. I cried and cried to him when I came here last night. He held me the whole night. I didn't want to do anything else. It felt good and I want more Bun snuggles. I reach out to him.

Bun uses his blocky paws to pull me to him. He manages to pull us down onto the grass gently and I curl into his body, which is not so soft anymore, but the thinner, pencil-like one. As we lay there, Bun sings to me and rubs my back, as I cry quietly. I can't stop crying. I don't want Papa to be gone. But after some time, my tears stop and there are just sniffles, until finally, I'm not crying anymore, but the heaviness of the crying is still in my chest.

I feel something hop onto my back and then hop off and onto Bun. It's a small, black bunny. He makes his way over to my face to inspect it and I giggle when he licks it, but then he bites my cheek. "Ow, bunny! That wasn't nice."

Bun sits us up and somehow manages to grab the bunny, whose ears go back. He looks scared and suddenly, I'm not so mad at him for biting me. I sit up too. "He wasn't biting you, he was testing his teeth on your skin, because he's not encountered human skin before. Bunnies do that."

The poor little guy still looks scared. "Oh." He's too cute to even remember what he did. "Can I pet him?"

Bun nods.

I pet his ears and after a time, the bunny relaxes. His breathing slows down and he chills, soaking up the sun like Bun and I were. "You won't have to worry about your papa going away so much anymore," Bun says while I keep petting the bunny. "He might still have to go away sometimes, but you'll hardly notice."

I don't know how Bun knows these things, or can make these promises, but his words always come true in some form. I trust him, so I nod. He makes me feel better. It's enough that I feel I can talk to him about something else. "Bun?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"M-my friend Michael wants me to have a sleepover with him. Do you think I should?"

"Even if you wanted to, your papa is firmly against the idea," he says like he might have an opinion about it.

I laugh at him. "If I ask Papa, he might say yes."

Bun perks up. "Might say… what do you mean by that?"

I shrug. "Dunno. I could just ask'im, if you want."

"This might be – no this is genius. Why didn't I think of it?"

I shrug again.

"Hmmmm. Do you _want_ to sleepover at your friend Michael's?"

Did I? That's harder to answer. It's not that I don’t want to, but I don't want to sleep without Daddy or Papa nearby. I know Michael would really like me to though; I want to make my new friend happy.

And I think it might be fun.

I start twirling my hand in my hair over and over, nervous to answer. I don't know how to answer, because yes I want to, but no I'm not ready yet. Suddenly Bun's paw is in my hair, and it's not a paw anymore, but a hand; threading through mine. He gently removes my hand twisting at all my hair and begins carding his fingers through. He pulls me to him again – I notice the little black bunny is gone.

"That's enough of that, now. You don't have to decide today – maybe another time?"

I nod into the warmth of his body. "Another time."

~**~

"What do you mean he's given up the whole thing?" Daddy asks Papa.

Papa shrugs. "He told me not to worry about Dean sleeping over until we were ready for it."

"He's clearly up to something Cas," Daddy says, lifting me to him from my spot on the ground, like he's afraid Michael will show up at any second to take me away. I whine toward my toy that got left behind. Daddy bends down to pick up Bun and I accept him gratefully; Daddy rubs my bare leg.

"Clearly, but there isn't much we can do about it if there is."

"I don't know about that Cas, you seemed to put him in his place last night."

Papa comes over to kiss Daddy's lips and push my hair back as I arrange Bun's ears properly. "I had leverage, but Michael doesn't like being spoken to like I did, he won't entertain too many performances like that. We have to be careful."

"Papa? Michael's my friend?" I want to make sure. I cried a lot at his house.

He nods. "Michael's your friend."

"Do you think I should have a sleepover with him, Papa?" There's been a lot of talk about that. I'm nervous to ask him, but I do because I want to know Papa's feelings before I make up mine.

"No, I don't," Papa says.

"O-o-o-o-o-kay, Papa." I curl into Daddy and twist my free hand in my hair. I shouldn't have asked that. I was wrong. I'll have to tell Bun. What will I tell Bun?

"Oh, my poor butterfly, I'm sorry. Papa didn't mean to… I'm going to kill my brother," he says a bit under his breath, but I can still hear him. "What Papa meant was, I'm protective of my little one and… do _you_ want to have a sleepover with Michael, Dean?"

"N-n-nooo," I say into Daddy's shoulder sniffling. I didn't mean to make Papa upset.

I feel strong fingers pry me away from Daddy and I know when I've reached the security of Papa. I cling to him tightly, and try to breath right. What's Papa going to do?

He starts swaying me side to side. It feels nice, but my tummy is still in knots. "I'm sorry, butterfly. Papa overreacted because he's crazy about you. Dean, it's okay if you do want to have a sleepover at Michael's house. You don't have to make any decisions now, but it's okay if you do."

That's a lot like what Bun said.

"I can't promise you I'll say yes, but it's okay for you to want something, okay?"

I nod because I do understand him, but I still feel sorry for asking. I'm getting Papa's shoulder all wet.

"You know, maybe, perhaps, argh… Sam, you got a soother on you?"

"Sure, Cas," Daddy says. He sounds like he's trying not to laugh.

In seconds, Papa's pushing a soother into my mouth; I suck on it gratefully. "You're so going to cave," Daddy says.

"It's not about caving Sam – this isn't a toy at the store – you said so yourself, Michael's up to something."

Daddy's quiet after that, probably sensing like I have that this is not a topic Papa wants to talk about; not lightly anyway. Papa sighs. "Look baby boy, Papa just needs some time to make sure it's a good idea. I'm sure it will be, I… don't cry anymore, okay sweetheart? Papa can't stand that he made you cry."

 _I'll try, Papa._ That's what the nod I give into his shoulder means. I don't feel like talking just now. I don't want to be upset, or to cry, or to make Papa feel bad. I want to do what Papa says, so he'll be happy.

"I have an idea," Daddy says. "I bet Dean would like to run around in just his diaper for the rest of the night, wouldn't you baby boy?"

I perk up. Daddy doesn't always let me do that.

"No, Daddy. I don't think he does," Papa says, but his voice is different; I think, _I think_ he's teasing me.

I lift my head. "I do, Papa."

"You do?" he tickles my belly and I giggle.

"Nooo, Papa. Stop!" But I don't mind when he does it again and I laugh some more.

"Okay. Should we take this off you, then?" Papa stands me up and unsnaps my onsie, Daddy holds Bun for me, while Papa pulls it over my head. I smile shyly at Daddy.

"Go on. Play with your toys, Dean. Papa and I will be there in a minute."

"Kay," I say from behind my soother. I get down on all fours and use my favored mode of transportation to head toward the toy box in the living room. I drag Bun with me. I don't know if he heard all of that with Papa, I don't know if Bun can hear things when he's stuffed Bun. I don't know how it works. I'm just glad there's a Bun at all.

~**~

Cas kisses me. "Thank you, Baby. You saved me."

"You're this close from caving," I say even though pushing at this juncture is unwise. I want to see him smile though, he's been tense.

He yanks me to him and smacks my ass. "Watch it, Sam. But yes, I'm close. I want to anyway, but I won't put Dean in a bad situation, even if it means having to resist those sad, green eyes. Not to mention, I want to make sure this is something Dean wants and not something, _Bun_ suggested."

True. "You think Michael would suggest to Dean, through the guise of Bun to get him to ask?"

"Of course he would. I'm surprised he hasn't done it by now. Whether he'd do it or not isn't the question though, I want to know if this is something Dean wants. If he does, that's a big step for him – we can't ignore that either."

"No, we can't." Dean's been taking more steps that say that just maybe he could, well, heal might be too strong a word for Dean, ever, but he's taking steps toward something that's close to healing and I'm all for it. I'll keep Dean as my little boy forever if that's what he wants, but even as a little-omega, he's still got to be able to speak his mind; not be afraid to ask for things.

_Take a bath._

"This is hard Sam. I don't want to make the wrong decision, but I'm terrified. It's not the right time; Michael's not as ready as he thinks he is."

"We don't have to make any decisions today. For now, we wait."

He nods and we both look over to where Dean is, playing happily with his toys; Bun watching on. That doll is starting to creep me out a bit, but Dean won't go anywhere without him now, he acts like it's real and I know why that is.

Cas pulls me in for another kiss, this one deeper. He presses into the bruises he knows are still there. If Dean's noticed any of them, he hasn't indicated. "I'm going to take you again later, Sam." That sends the best chills through my body and that's all he says before heading off to play with our boy. It's the best feeling to be left with.

I can't join them yet. I want to watch them. It reminds me of simpler times, when Cas would drop by to play with Dean, when Dean was just getting to know him. But it's not the same. I know because Dean is more at ease with Cas, his papa now and it's clear by the lack of space Dean insists on. Dean used to keep an invisible energy barrier between them, not anymore, now, he wants to be in Cas's space, close to him, scenting him and letting Cas scent him back. Dean watches Cas with big eyes, still in awe of him like he was when they first met, but I can see there's more there than there was before; adoration that's closer to worship.

Eventually, I join them.

Dean pulls out his soother. "Daddy? Please can we have some juice?"

"Oh, so you think if you ask for you and Papa, I'll let you have more juice, do you?"

Dean nods with a great big smile.

"You win, Peaches."


	13. Lost Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya Everybody! I'm on a roll. 3 chapters finished in the space of a week-ish! 
> 
> So um, not everyone is going to like what's going on here. And I'll be honest, for the first time EVER, I'm not 100% sure what's going on either. Though deep down, I feel like I know. Thus, I'm not going to tag this Michael / Dean yet. After all that's not a *trigger, that's a *preference. BIG difference. I will tag accordingly when the story is finished and we all know what's happened, so you may want to wait to finish the story then. I think you should just come on an adventure with me--like in the good 'ol days of storytelling! But that's just my opinion ;) 
> 
> I thought I should talk about Michael in this story a little. He's not our fun-loving Angel like in the Winchesters, because he wasn't raised by them, like Other Michael was. This Michael, well he might do some things that are not so cool. I don't know what exactly, but I feel it coming. That's as much warning as I have for now. I'll tag potentially triggering stuff as best I can. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy. I've got some For You in the works and a BDD Time Stamp on the way!

"I doesn't want to have a sleepover with Michael. Okay, Papa?" Dean says.

Cas looks over at me, a concerned look on his face. It's the tenth time he's said something like that over the past few days. We both know why. Cas made his feelings on the sleepover known to Dean and now Dean wants to ensure he hasn't made Cas mad at him. It reminds me of when little boys get other little boys to like them by pretending they either like something, or don't like something, depending on what another little boy feels.

Heartbreaking as it is, I'm glad Cas did what he did; we'll get through this, like we do everything else. Cas just feels like dirt. "Okay Dean, but you're allowed to _want_ to. You understand that right?"

"Doesn't want to do it Papa," Dean repeats. Cas isn't sure what Dean understands.

Dean is rubbing his eyes though, so I take that as my cue. "One little boy needs his nap," I say, stepping into their play space to pick up Dean.

"Hey! I was playin' that, Daddy." That's how I know he's not too bad off, well, no more than usual.

"You can play again with Papa when you wake up," I tell him as the tears fill his eyes.

"Don't needa nap, Daddy," he complains into my shoulder, sounding like someone who does need a nap. Badly.

I carry him up to his room and sit his pouty-self on the bed, looking so sad with wet eyes. He's still rubbing at his eyes, but this time, he's also twirling at his hair watching me pull out a fresh diaper. I help him get his shirt off and then I give him a soother before I change him. "Enough with the sad eyes Dean. You're tired and you're napping." Sometimes I have to be stern with him for his benefit. Dean's been restless; he needs to hunt. And while he has been getting more sleep than usual (I guess I do have Michael to thank for that) he's agitated, fighting urges and that takes up more energy, making him more tired, more often.

But fucking Michael won't let Dean hunt. He doesn't get it either, I'm not sure he ever will.

Dean sniffles in a woe-be-tide sort of way. He takes his soother out a second. "We will play a-again after, Daddy?" he says, a little unsure and even though I've already said it. Sometimes he just needs to hear me say something a few times.

"Of course. Don't you always?" I say in a voice that's matter of fact, hoping he can pick up on that and believe me.

He thinks about it, stuffs his soother back in and nods. I leave him in just his diaper for sleeping. I can't help looking him over as I often do. It's curious how differently omegas grow than Alphas. Everything about us is bigger, but Dean has managed to accrue some size in his physique via blocky muscles, which make him strong, but not near as strong as I am. He's also a lot shorter and weighs a lot less.

There are things about Dean that I'm not sure come from his omega gender, but are just Dean things. Like how precious he is with his fair hair that's just this side of wavy when it's long like it is now. It gives him a babyish look that really sells his whole little state. He may have a gruff voice, but the rest of him isn't gruff. Not at all. He's smooth and creamy. Even his feet, which are much smaller than mine, have an indescribable cuteness to them.

I reach out to tickle one, trying to break his pout. I know better, only sleep will do that, but it's kind of worth it to have him kick at me. "No Daddy," he says around his soother.

"Okay. Daddy won't do that. How about you get under the covers, huh?"

He does in the grouchiest way he can. "Don't like naps," he tells me in case I didn't know, or that I'd forgotten in the few minutes since he last said it.

I let his grouchy mutterings go and tuck him in. He looks around. "Bun, Daddy." Oh crap, I think I left him downstairs.

The flap of wings and Cas is here, with Dean's favorite stuffed friend. Dean holds his arms out and crushes the stuffed bun to him. "I was cleaning up to pass the time while I waited, and I noticed he'd been forgotten," Cas tells us both.

"Papa, I want to play," Dean says thinking if he can get Papa on his side, he can weasel his way out of a nap.

"Didn't Daddy say it was time for a snooze?" Cas says with stern eyes.

Dean lowers his eyes instinctively and hugs bun a little harder. "Yeah," he whines.

"Then it's time to close your eyes. Would you like Papa to lay with you?"

I give Cas the, 'oh really' look.

"Just 'till he falls asleep," Cas murmurs for my ears only.

"I doooo, Papa." Dean's very weepy and whiney.

I can't believe Cas, but I also think it's sweet. Cas climbs onto the bed with Dean and Dean reaches his free arm, the one without Bun, to Cas's shirt and digs his fingers in. "You've got to close your eyes though, okay?"

Dean's sucking his soother pretty hard, but he nods. I take a seat in the rocking chair and enjoy watching Cas twirl his fingers in Dean's hair as Dean closes his eyes. It's the best picture. I can tell Dean's not yet asleep by the rate he's sucking his soother. Even a gentle admonishment from Cas can get Dean's heart racing and it's not what Cas wants, but we're battling with more anxiety on the other side of the coin. The structure is far more important for Dean; I'm glad I have Cas to share that responsibility with. He doesn't mind being the bad cop.

Slowly Dean's breath evens out, the soother sucking comes to a halt, the hand with the death grip he had on Cas's jacket relaxes and we know he's sleeping. Cas enjoys watching Dean sleep for a bit, smiling, still twirling his hair, kissing his for head, enjoying his scent.

Eventually, Cas slides off the bed, grabs my hand and we slip out of the room together.

I'm pushing Cas's jacket off soon as we're out the door. I slam him against the opposing wall (to Dean's room) and kiss him, sliding my tongue into his mouth. I thrust my hips into his. I want him. "Aggressive today, aren't we?" Cas says.

It's more than that. "Mine," is all I say. Yeah. Something's set off my biology. I want to take Cas. Claim him. I'm scenting him like crazy. We trip and fumble our way to the bedroom as I work on undressing us both. Cas doesn't 'let' me take him per se, he's observing me taking him, like he might decide to turn the tables, _could_ turn the tables, at any time, but for now, he's enjoying. 

And he wants it.

He's, on some level, craving me taking him, so while he could fight back, the amount of enjoyment he's getting outweighs the fight he's willing to give.

When I've got him naked, I look over his beautiful body – I know it's his _vessel_ , but to me, it's also him. He embodies this vessel; the mannerisms he uses make it him and Cas is gorgeous. Staring at him, I think about how he does resemble the imagined form – the stereotypical form – of an angel, all glow-y and surreal.

But Cas is also the definition of angel I've come to know – the one with hard blue eyes ready to smite at a moment's notice. Cold, calculated force you don't want unleashed on you. I love that about him too; the power I can feel from him and that it's scary. I feel like I'm playing with literal fire and it's thrilling.

Running fingers over the meat of his shoulder, I savor the feel of his skin. _Mine._ Cas reaches out to grab my hand then he brings it in for a soft kiss. That's all the softness that happens for long while. There's a lot of tumbling as I throw us both on the floor and we wrestle, Cas's instincts – though different than mine – still seek dominance and he reacts. But I won't submit today.

Cas may be stronger than me, but dominance is not something that relies solely on physical strength; it's also a mindset and that's what I win today. I bare my teeth and clamp down on his neck and sink in. I don't go in far, but it's enough to make him bleed and enough to make him calm some of his angel-like-alpha. I pick him up and throw him back onto the bed, trapping him underneath me as I kiss him some more, mashing teeth and sucking face.

I don't bother with prep. I thrust my hips at him, until my engorged cock catches his rim and I slide in with three separate, sure thrusts, wedging my way inside. Cas opens for me easily and before long, I'm pounding into him wildly feeling like an animal staking my claim. I continue to kiss him and bite him while I fuck him.

And just because Cas is somewhat deferential, it doesn't mean I'm left unscathed. He bites and sucks too. I've got bruises from the slamming and the wrestling, but all the while, he's under me and I'm in control. I watch him enjoy my cock. Moaning and begging. " _Please, Baby. Please._ "

"You wanna come, Cas?"

"Y-yeah…"

But I don't finish him there. First, I come hard, filling him up and while I'm tied to him, that's when I pull out lube, to play with his cock building his orgasm until he comes over my hand.

We spend long minutes kissing some more, as we wait for my knot to go down.

"What brought that on?" Cas asks, when we've recovered some from the aftermath

"I, I'm not sure. I just, fuck Cas. I just had to claim you." We both know the overwhelming urge to claim, doesn't happen for me often. Sure I've got all my alphaness in tact, and sex with Cas is more often than not a violent event that breaks shit, but I'm happy to submit to him in my own alpha way. Today was a rarity. Doesn't mean Cas was just going to go with it; I had to win it and I did.

"And I'm glad you did, but now, it's my turn." Cas pounces and I'm the prey this time.

~**~

I'm alone and I'm scared. I don't know where Bun is. I can't find the light where he usually stands by the door. Did he decide to stop being my friend? I don't know, but I can already feel _him_ nearby. It's dark in the corners of my mind. Instead of the bright sunlight and blooming trees, I'm in a dark wooded area. It reminds of me of any night I've been on a hunt.

I hear the snap of a twig and I even feel the rush of air behind me as _he_ runs by, taunting me as he does. Laughing manically. "N-noooo! St-stay 'way!"

I can fight ghouls, ghosts and vampires, but I can't fight him.

"I can never stay away though, can I Dean?" he says in that terrifying way of his, especially since I know it's true. I can never unlock him from my mind—he lives within it like a parasite burrowed deep.

"Please. Le-let me go."

"You're mine Dean."

I can't see him, but I feel the sensation of him lunging at me. If I thought him catching me would end things, end me, maybe… well maybe I wouldn't run. Maybe, in past, I'd have just let him catch me. But he doesn't have plans to kill me—it's worse than death, which is why I run.

And now, I have too many good things to let me feel like I did before. I was worried when Daddy wanted to marry Papa for a bit, unsure of where I'd fit in, but now I know how sad they'd be if I wasn't there and that I do fit in—they want me.

I'm not strong enough to fight _him_ though, so the best I can do is run; especially if staying away from him makes me better for Daddy and Papa. With that in mind, I run. Bun's not here, so it's up to me to stay away from _him_ until I wake up, which I'm trying to do. It's not exactly easy. You'd think all I have to do is tell myself, _this is a dream, wake up!_ but it's never been like that.

So I do the only thing I can. _Run._

Funny thing is, I know I'm sleeping, that none of this is real—but tell that to my mind. It's real enough. I can feel the heat in my muscles, sweat forming on my skin; I can feel every beat of my heart, thick like peanut butter. Breath burns in my lungs and everything feels desperate. All the while, the wild, panic chases me, knowing that he's closer and closer, that he could reach out and grab me and then I'm his until I finally wake up.

In the darkness, he grabs me. At least, I think it's _him_ , until I'm panting in the darkness, on the ground and thick footfalls are running by me. That's when I realize something else has me. I begin to struggle with the little fight I have left in me, but whatever has me is way stronger. "Shhh. You're okay," a voice says. A voice I recognize.

I stop struggling, but my heart's still racing. When enough time has passed, and my racing heart has slowed, and I turn to see, "Michael?"

I get an angry look. "Quiet. Do you want us to be found?"

In an instant, I figure it out. He's Bun. Bun's him. There's no particular reason I suddenly know this, I just do; it fits together. I think I've always known, but the illusion was comforting. "Wh-what happened?" I say, quieter this time, tears filling my eyes.

He stares at me with an intensity that's like Papa, but with irritation that's all his own. I have to look away and slide fingers to my hair for twirling. "Dean," he whispers. "It's going to be okay. You need to wake up though—get out of here."

"I-I-I-I…" I can't speak. He gets it and he pulls me to him.

"You can't, can you?"

I shake my head into his chest.

"Okay. We'll figure something else out. My powers are sadly… limited, in your head."

I nod this time. That doesn't sound good. I look up to him. I want to say something, want to ask him again why things are different, but he doesn't seem to want to tell me and I'm too afraid to ask again. It's hard for me to ask questions. Asking most questions makes me anxious.

"Can you think of something happy, Dean? Otherwise it's us running around in this forsaken forest all night. And he will find us."

I nod.

"Are you doing the thing where you cease to speak? Now is really not the time."

I nod anyway, my breath fluttering as I try to inhale. His lips twist sourly. "Never mind about that then, but the happy memory, I wasn't kidding about—" His head turns. "Shit! Come." Michael grabs my hand and I run with him. I feel it again, the anxious feeling of _him_ approaching.

 _He_ laughs, enjoying the hot pursuit. "I'm gonna get you, then I'm gonna beat you!" he sings.

"Something happy, Dean! Quickly!"

Suddenly, everything around us changes, even though I didn't think I'd thought of something. We're no longer in a forest, but a long hallway sporting a string of doors. Michael pulls us into one, and we get time to breathe. "This was the best you could think of? I gave you rolling meadows and butterflies."

I shrug. I didn't think I'd done anything, but I must have. I tap my lips, because I could use a soother. Michael's anger rises. "I told you. My powers are limited for the moment and no I don't know what happened. If you want a soother, you'll have to dream one up. You can you know."

I bite my lip then slip a thumb past it. I can't. I just can't. Michael's rage seems to break a little; like maybe he feels sorry for me. "You're even paralyzed in your own mind," he says sighing. "I hoped I had… oh never mind. C'mere." He holds out arms for me and I go to him. He embraces me and even lifts me to him—I wrap my legs around his torso. "I'm sorry, Dean. There's not much I can do. You must have something happy. What about… can you think of your parents?"

I know he means Daddy and Papa. I nod and I try. He said a happy thought, so I think about the day Papa brought the paper home, the one with the waxy red letters saying he's my papa. Daddy was excited too. I remember the way he looked at Papa—proud and content. Papa brought me into his lap and explained to me what the paper meant.

He said that he was my alpha now too, and that he would continue to take very good care of me. He began to scent me and I responded in kind, overjoyed that he would make everything official between us. I wanted to make sure everyone knew he belonged to me—whether it was right, or wrong for me to do that. It wasn't the first time we scented each other, but it seemed important to do so in that moment.

Daddy was happy I did that. "Good boy, Dean. Papa loves it when you scent him like that." It made me feel better. "Is it time to have cake?" he said.

I looked to Papa. _Cake?_ I don't always need to speak out loud with Papa. He often understands what I do not say. "That's right, Butterfly. Cake. It's to celebrate," he explained, scenting me some more.

I couldn't speak that day either, but I forced a couple words out for him. "Love, you."

Papa stood, swinging me around, kissing my face. "I love you too, dear one."

I was still holding the special paper. I had hoped I'd get to sleep with it under my pillow. "That's going to get destroyed if you let him do that, Cas," Daddy said trying to pry it from my hands without it ripping.

I found more words. "No Daddy. Mine."

"It is yours, Butterfly, but we have to put it somewhere safe. Wouldn't want it to get lost," Papa told me.

Lost as in… could they take it back? After that day, I made sure to check on it. Both because it was so pretty—I was fascinated by the red letters—and because I wanted to make sure it was still there. The thought of having my paper that says I'm Papa's, makes me sad again.

"What's going on? What's happening?" Michael asks. He's urgent, looking around—Michael's scared.

I can't do it. I can't think of a happy memory. Even my happiest of memories are somehow tainted with worry and sadness. I give him a woeful look in apology. He studies my face critically, deciding if he should scold me some more, but then his eyes fill with confusion. "What the…?" He reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a soother, his expression twisting into a mixture of disbelief and 'it figures'. "You can't dream us up rainbows and kittens, but you can conjure up one of these?" I don't think he expects an answer. Instead, he nudges my thumb out of my mouth and pops the soother in, sighing. "Now what?"

I shake my head and shrug at the same time then put my head back down on his shoulder, taking solace in him and the methodical-suck of my soother.

"It's just as well I suppose. We're stuck here until you wake up, unless; I could leave and wake you on the other side?"

Leave? That inspires some speaking. "Noooo…" I whine behind my soother. I clutch him tight and cry into his shoulder.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh. Okay. Bad idea. I'll stay here with you no matter what. Dean? You have my solemn promise."

I'm not sure what a solemn promise is to an angel, but I think he means it. I nod, but can't stop crying silent tears. "Everything will be fine. We're in this together."

Another nod.

"And we should keep trying. You've got to have a pure memory in here somewhere. Otherwise, it's going to be a very long ride. Dreams—nightmares—they don't know time. You may only be asleep for an hour, but it could feel like days in here."

I nod again. I'll try.

"I'm sorry I failed you Dean. I don't know what happened. You had your bun before you went to sleep, yes?"

I nod. Papa brought him to me.

"Then I simply don't know. Anyway, it doesn't matter, we're here—" Michael goes quiet. I freeze not even taking a breath. "C'mon. This way," Michael says, his voice low. He peeks out the door and into the hallway. A door is opening and then closing. Then he moves onto the next. _He's_ here and he's checking each door.

Michael backs us into the door, the anticipation and anxiety rising for both of us. "So strange. He acts as if he's… well never mind that now. Dean, now would be a good time to start thinking of something happy. There's got to be something."

He's right. _He_ … J-John's getting closer and there's not really a way for us to run without him seeing us. I look toward the door then point to Michael.

"Don't you think I've tried to do something about him? I can't do more than protect pieces of your mind from him, well, usually. It has to be you."

Right. Me. But, I'm too scared. He's always had a hold on me, one I can't shake.

I whine quietly behind my soother some more. I hear the hollow sound of doors opening and shutting, he's getting closer, but all I can do is suck my soother faster. "What about just you and your brother? There's got to be something there."

That does remind me of one time.

Everything shifts around us and we're in a room I know. A baby cries and a little boy runs to hop up on a stool next to the crib. He's joined by his father who stands next to him and peers into the crib. The little boy pulls out his soother. "Sammy's cryin'," the boy says.

"Yep." The man reaches down and lifts the baby to him as the boy replaces his soother. The man arranges the baby in one arm and uses his free hand to pat the boy on top of his fair head of hair, growing long and wavy. "Good boy, Dean."

"Is this your happy thought?" Michael asks. I shrug. I'm not sure what kind of thought it is. I know I like it, but it makes me sad too; thinking how much he used to… but then… "Oh no you don't. Keep thinking this. I think it's working."

Things begin to shift and change, but we're not out of the darkness yet. I can hear the door in the room next to us open, I can still only see very little of Michael, by the ghostly light that seems to come from nowhere. Michael's worry increases. "Hurry up, Dean. Hurry."

I can't help wondering what Papa and Daddy would say, seeing Michael have to depend on me. I continue to focus on the memory, the 'good boy', I like being a good boy. The door to the room next to us closes, and we both know what that means. The door to the room we're in opens, but we never see _his_ face, suddenly, we're back in the meadow, thrown in, we're ripped apart, and both strewn about the flowers. The butterflies all around us. It takes us both a moment to realize this, but once we do, it's Michael clambering over to me, checking me over, while I sit on the ground, stunned. "You did it! You did it, Dean!"

Huh, yeah. Guess I did. I don't feel so good though, and I start to shudder, crying more silent tears, sucking my soother, my hand reaches to my hair. He lifts me to him again, I automatically curl in. "I must admit, I didn't expect to end up here."

He didn't? Why wouldn't he? This is where Bun brings me—where _Michael_ brings me. It's a special place. I pull back to look at him, and we stare and stare at each other.

A long time seems to pass as we keep staring. He looks at me in wonderment, like he's never seen me before, watching, deciding. The thing we went through was scary for both of us. Michael, who is always perfect looking, doesn't look so good. His hair is askew, his eyes like they might have bags under them, which makes no sense, I didn't think that could happen to angels. He reaches up to take my soother out, I don't like the loss of it, but I don't complain. "Come stay with me—just for a night," he adds when he sees I'm about to speak.

Whatever block it is that stops me speaking is gone, and I have words again. "Papa won't like it, Michael. He'll say no."

Michael is furious. "Please." His lips are tightly pressed together, holding back the so many things he wants to say.

I want to. I want to feel what it's like to sleep next to Michael. I've spent so much time comforted by him as bun, I've come to like the feel of him. Sleeping next to him would be, well I could like it. But that means asking Papa, and I don't like to ask.

I also can't say no to Michael. My only friend.

"Yes, Michael."


	14. Surviving Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has my very fave kind of spanking in it. The one between Sastiel *heart eyes* 
> 
> Hope you like too!

Michael is before us like I've never seen him, and from the look on Cas's face, I wager he's never seen Michael like this either—which says a lot. First, he's seated before us, in his office, like we're the inquisition, and not the other way around like it usually is, his shirt and tie are undone, tie hanging loosely around his neck, his hair is bedraggled, and he's got his head hanging in his hands.

I look to Cas for what to do. He's steely, but also in shock and for Cas that means concern. With solid eyes, he wordlessly tells me he's got this, but I know to jump in with whatever questions I have, because boy do I have questions, but Cas knows Michael better than I do, and I'd rather he maneuvers us through this.

"Michael, sir, can we be of assistance?"

Michael's head snaps up, angry. "Assistance? You two are useless."

I'm going to kill him—kill him with my bare hands. Cas has to put an arm out to stop me lunging. "Michael, what happened?" Cas tries.

"Watch your tone, Castiel. You have no business demanding information from me."

That's how it works in their 'family', I'm sure, but I beg to differ, Dean is ours and I want to demand everything. "My apologies, sir," Cas says. "I understand you think we're useless, but I know we can help."

Michael rises, analyzing us like smelly socks. "If I can't do anything, there's nothing you can do. I brought you here to understand that. It's got to be me. I can help him, but he's got to be with me. Here."

It's Cas's turn to dictate. "You can take him, and I can't stop you, but it will be without my blessing. No."

Which is code for Dean won't have it either. Michael understands this, and it frustrates him. "I will have my revenge on you for this Castiel. Mark my words. Fine. Leave me then."

He thrusts a hand out at us, and we're thrown back into our house. Dean's crying on the ground from where we disappeared on him; I rush over, and pull him up to me. "Shhh, shhhh, Daddy's here, Peaches. We were with Michael." Whose murder I'm planning.

Cas looks every bit as furious as Michael did, but Cas's fury is at Michael. He begins pacing as I sway Dean, who's calmed at the mention of Michael. Hmmm, curious. "We'll leave. We'll bury ourselves in a hole so deep, Michael will never find us. I'm sure I can convince the others to help."

"You know we can't do that Cas." Much as I'd like to.

"What are your bright ideas?"

"Hey now, let's not allow Michael to get us fighting too."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. How is he?"

Dean's quiet now, with his head on my shoulder, sucking his thumb, in place of his soother, which must have fallen out. "He's fine, Cas." As fine as Dean is. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know, but it's clearly rattled Michael. That means as bad as it gets."

"I… Cas? Do you think it's got something to do with Michael visiting Dean's head?"

"I do. That still doesn't help us."

I don't exactly want to do what comes next, but I'm terrified, _Cas_ is barely keeping a handle on himself, and Michael's a fucking mess. It has to be done. I sit on the couch with Dean, and lean back so I can see his face. Dean knows. He knows what's up—I see that immediately—he looks scared. "Dean, can you tell us what Michael does, up there? In your head?"

His eyes, still red from all the crying he did while Michael stole us, fill with more tears. He looks over to Cas then shakes his head, which he then buries into my neck. I hate doing this to him, but we need answers, and he's the only place to get them. I run my fingers through his hair. "Darling boy, I know it's hard, but could you give us something, anything? We're scared witless, or I wouldn't push you so."

And then I wait.

I give Dean some moments to collect himself. I know he doesn't like how teary he is over stuff, even when he's little and appreciates time to gather himself if I do need him to speak, which I don't do often. I got used to him not speaking for so many years, I got by without it—which gives me an idea. "Tell you what. I'm going to ask things, and you can just nod and shake your head, okay?"

It takes him a minute, but he eventually does nod. Cas quits his pacing, and looks on, interested. "Do you know when Michael's in your head?" I figure this is a good question, especially since I don't know how it all works. I know he's in there, but does Dean know? Or is it just Michael, looking on at his thoughts like they're some kind of Supernatrual television show?

Dean nods.

"C-Can you see him?"

Another nod.

I figured as much. Michael eluded to 'Bun' helping Dean, and it was clear Dean could 'see' Bun, but somewhere along the line, things have changed and Dean 'sees' Michael. No I don't like it, but that's beyond my control at the moment. "Does Michael do anything you don't like when he's in there?"

This time, Dean shakes his head. That's somewhat comforting; however, I don't forget that my idea of 'don't like' and Dean's could be different. While Dean is wise, he's also naïve in so many ways. "Did something bad happen, while you napped?" Dean woke up as usual, and 'as usual' means a few things. He's often crying, or scared from a nightmare, though sometimes, it's just a too-standard haunted look, even with whatever the hell Michael's been doing in there. This time, it was his haunted look. In hindsight, he was quieter than he'd been of late, but we were whisked away too-quickly, by Michael, for me to investigate.

His nod is small, so tiny, but he's shaking and I know what happened is more significant that the size of his nod. I clutch him tighter. "You're all right, you're okay." Until he sleeps I realize. Oh my god. It's more than just nightmares—it's a Freddy Krueger situation happening inside his mind. Jesus. I remember what Michael explained, if vaguely, about our father being a figment in Dean's mind, and how fractured Dean's mind is. I finally get it now in a way I didn't before, how John isn't just some ghost, but a living, breathing entity to Dean.

But Michael was helping him with that, and, oh shit. It all makes sense now. "Michael couldn't help you this time, could he?"

Dean can barely answer, but he does with a slow headshake. I look up at Cas horrified; something's getting worse. I get it now in a way I didn't before. I suppose I get, a little, why Michael finds Cas and I useless at the moment. It was still an asshole thing to say, but it's just him being frustrated by his own failings, and ours too.

"That must have been scary—I'm sorry, baby boy."

I rub his back, unsure of what to do. We have answers now, but we're more helpless than before. I look to Cas on this one. I mouth, "what do we do?"

He walks over to Dean and cards his fingers through his hair. "Our best."

**

The weeks pass, and Dean's sleep quality worsens, which makes our day-to-day family interactions worsen. The only bright side, is that by some miracle, we haven't heard from Michael, we also don't seek Michael out, wanting nothing to do with him after the last interaction.

Dean's gone from mostly-pleasant-toddler, to Terrible Toddler. He throws his toys, punches, kicks, and has even tried to bite on occasion. We try everything from giving him his way—which only made everything much worse—to time outs, which we finally reasoned aren't just punishment, but a cool-off period, one in which we hope Dean will fall asleep.

Sometimes he does, and Cas and I are practically biting our nails, waiting to see what we get afterward: crying Dean, terrified Dean, or angry Dean. Cas and I start to lose our cool too, both with Dean, and each other.

**

"How hard is it to put your shoes away, Cas? Dean tripped and whacked his shin, earlier. He's already a crying mess, what's a little more, I guess?"

"I didn't do that on purpose. I came in, in a hurry, so I could get Dean the juice he was screaming for, and you keep complaining about shoes tracking dirt in the house."

"Oh? So this is my fault? You had plenty of time to go back and pick them up."

"Stop it, Sam."

"I will not stop it. I can speak my mind, Cas. Or are you suddenly your dickhead brother? Dictating what everyone does? You know what? I'm taking Dean hunting—that's what he needs."

"You're not taking Dean anywhere. Hunting is the last thing he needs with as little sleep as he's had, and if there's anything that will bring us Michael's attention; it's that. Now behave yourself, before you earn a spanking."

That takes my breath away, but somehow I manage to speak. "Earn myself a spanking? Forget it Cas, you're not spanking me for this. In fact fuck Michael, and fuck you too! I'm taking Dean, and we're out of here."

I even begin heading up to Dean's room, where I put him down, and he did actually go to sleep, but Cas catches my wrist, and pulls me, more like drags me, over to the couch. "What are you doing? Cas, stop."

He pays me no heed, and continues dragging, so I fight. It slows him down, but the angel is strong, stronger than me, especially when he's using all his strength, and right now, he's the equivalent of fighting against the Earth's gravitational pull. I dig my heals in, but all that happens is my socked feet sliding against the carpet, and my wrist hurting as Cas crushes harder. "Stop fighting. You're getting this spanking Sam."

"Like hell I am!" I pull and push at his hand, trying to pry it off of me to no avail. He makes it to the couch, sitting, and I have no other choice than to go with him, but I haven't given up my struggle. "Cas! Stop! No!"

He tugs me over his lap, hard. "Oaf. Cas! Lemme go!"

He starts in spanking, over my jeans, as I continue to try to flee his lap. My jeans offer little protection, and his hand feels like a heavy paddle of wood. "Ow, ow, okay, Cas, enough. You made your, ow, your point. Ow!"

"Oh no, we're not nearly done."

Fuck. I struggle more, rolling like some kind of ridiculous worm, and almost roll off his lap, but he catches me, and he pulls me to him, readjusting me on his lap. At least it gives me a spanking break, because his spanks _hurt_! This time, he grabs my wrist (the same one he dragged me by) and pins it behind my back, using it to hold me there.

Then he starts again—spank! spank! spank! spank!

I don't stop my attempts to get away. "When you hold still, then we can start your spanking, and then we can finish it, and have it done. The longer you struggle, the longer this is going to be."

Wait, this isn't it? It feels like he's been spanking me forever, I'm already not going to be able to sit on this ass. He keeps on spanking, me and I keep wiggling, until he has enough of me, and uses one of his legs to trap both of mine. Cas's legs are like a vice, and I can't move at all. Without the constant movement, the pain increases, and I can't take it anymore. "Ow, Cas, please. Stop, it hurts!"

"Are you ready to behave yourself, so we can do this properly?" he says, and keeps right on spanking, but at least he slows the strokes. They come harder, and crisper when I don't answer right away.

"Yeah, yes! All right."

He stops spanking me, and I'm relieved momentarily. It feels very good to not be spanked right now. "We're going to pull these down—"

"—nooooo," I whine, doing my very best Dean, without meaning to. "Cas, I'm sorry."

"That's a good start. But like it or not, these pants are coming down, and you're getting a bare-bottomed spanking."

"Why? Because I didn't do what you said? This is a marriage, Cas, we're equals."

"We are. This spanking is mostly for the way you've been speaking to me, but it is a little to demonstrate my authority. You were about to do something foolish, so I'm pulling rank. You're going to obey me on this one, Sam."

His voice does something to me, and though I'm pissed at him, I can't help quivering—the good kind of way—inside. It's not the first time he's spanked me, but this time is different—everything feels different about it. And as much as I don't want to admit it, I like that he's _making_ me. I know full well I didn't, am not _exactly_ consenting to this, and he's making me anyway. It's both hot as hell, and makes me want to kill him.

"I'm going to stand you up, bare your bottom, and then you're going straight back over my knees. Do not make me run after you, understood?"

The looks he's giving me, is just this side of scary. "Yes, sir."

He releases my legs, and I'm still relishing in the sensation of not being spanked. I'm not looking forward to this. I watch Cas unbutton my jeans, with a little dread. "It's just going to be a spanking Sam. Don't look like that."

But I keep 'looking like that', whatever 'looking like that' is, in hopes he'll change his mind. Succinctly, he pulls down my jeans and my boxers, and then like he said, straight back over his knees I go. He traps my legs again, and I can't move them. "Hand please," he says and I groan, but I give it to him.

"I'm not gonna try to get away this time, Cas."

"Oh believe me, you are." That does not sound promising. "But that's irrelevant, you've lost the privilege of having anything free. Next time, when I say you're getting a spanking, understand that you're getting a spanking."

With my hand pinned to my back, and my legs locked tight in his, Cas starts in on my already sore ass. He's right, I do try to get away, but this time it's on instinct, rather than on purpose. It hurts more than any other spanking he's ever given me. "Ow, Cas, I'm sor-ry."

He keeps right on spanking, and while there are moments where I'm trying to be stoic, it stings so bad, I've got to squirm and move. "That's a horrible way to talk to me," he says.

"Yes, _yes_! sir, it was."

"And while I agree with you, that Dean needs to hunt, going up against Michael is a fool's errand, especially now. You saw him last time—we don't know what state he's in."

"You've gone up against Michael," I point out, even if it might not be the wisest thing to do in my position, but I'm not being disrespectful, and I trust Cas to be reasonable, because he really ought to tell me what's okay with what he did, and what's not okay with what I did.

"There are some very important differences about that situation," he says, finally giving me a break. "First, Michael has limits. Me putting my foot down about a sleepover isn't something he likes, but it's not life and death. Hunting is dangerous, he'll go ballistic; maybe even take Dean—do you want that?"

He's right. "No, Cas. I'm sorry."

I have to squirm again, as Cas lays down more smacks to my ass. I take sweet, comfortable breaths, as Cas pauses to say something else. "Second, we decided after that instance, that things regarding Dean would be discussed together. You made decisions then, without me too, and I should have spanked you—"

"—you did spank me," I say.

"I'm fairly certain you've garnered the difference between this spanking, and the one in that instance?"

"Yes, sir. I have." _Please can I be done?_

"Good. We're going to finish up, and you're going to have a rest—you're exhausted."

I want to argue, but the spanking's done its job—I'm not arguing with Cas right now. Besides, I'm just being belligerent; I could use the rest. "Yes, Sir."

The rest of the spanking is as unpleasant as the rest was, but by the end, a contentedness settles over me, and fuck, am I glad when it's done. I don't cry, but I breathe and allow the sting to fill me. Cas stands me up, stands us both up, takes my chin in his hand, and kisses me long and slow. "My ass is on fire, Cas," I complain.

He's amused. "You deserved it."

**

_I did deserve it. And I felt much better. I wasn't the only one in a terrible mood though. Cas might not need sleep, and he's a lot harder to rattle than I am by being worn down, but Dean's mood has been getting to him._

**

Dean's not having a great day, but I'm going to take him out for a walk anyway—he's going stir crazy in this house. Cas has some angel business to take care of; he's getting ready to go and so are we, soon as I finish putting away the laundry. I'm putting some towels in the upstairs linen closet, kind of in a bad mood myself, when I hear Cas bellowing. "Sam! _Sam!_ "

I'm annoyed, and I want to snap a 'what?' at him, but I still can't sit on my ass without wincing, so I think better of it. Instead I put on the sliver-y-est voice I have. "Yeah, Cas?"

"My jacket, where is it?"

Ugh, I hung that in the bedroom closet when I was cleaning up, and now I've got to stop what I'm doing and get it for him, since that will be less cumbersome, than trying to shout that down the stairs at him. "Just a sec," I call, and mutter to myself about annoying angels and their dumb jackets.

I grab the jacket, and head downstairs with it. He's still calling me. "Sam, I have to go. Sam!"

"It's here, your majesty."

Whereas usually, I'd help him put in on, as a sweet gesture, I simply hand it to him, in no mood to bother with him, or jackets, or anything. "Well if you wouldn't move my stuff, I wouldn't be looking all over the place for it."

I can't hold back my glare, but I do hold back the thought that maybe he shouldn't leave his shit all over the place—I've got more than enough stuff to do. "Where's Dean?"

He doesn't have to answer, a sippy cup comes flying at me, which Cas catches in midair. Cas is not pleased. "Dean Winchester, what did I tell you about throwing things?"

Dean's talking today. "Not to." He crosses his arms, as Cas storms across the room, trench coat swirling around him, lifts him from his seat at the kitchen table, and drops him into his playpen, which is Dean's time out area. But as he places him inside, he lands one sharp smack to Dean's seat. It doesn't look like it's anything painful, but Cas has never done that before, _I've_ never done that to Dean before.

I'm too shocked to say a word, and so is Dean. He looks up at Cas with big eyes, quickly filling with tears. "Papa's had enough of this behavior. I know you're tired, but you're a big enough boy to treat us with love and respect. Do that again, and you'll get a real spanking."

Dean nods.

Cas glides over to me, and kisses me solidly. "One hour for him, in there," he instructs. I think about complaining about our park outing, but we'll still have plenty of time, and maybe Dean will close his eyes for a fifteen-minute snooze, which would improve the quality of time at the park.

There's the characteristic flutter of wings, and Cas is gone. I check in with Dean to see what kind of an effect the past few minutes had on him. "D-Daddy, Pa-Papa spanked me," he says. He's earnest about it, but he doesn't seem too upset.

"You kinda deserved it," I tell him, and besides, it wasn't anywhere near a spanking. Believe me. "How about a bottle, and close your eyes? We'll go to the park after."

Dean nods and once he has his bottle, he closes his eyes. He doesn't fall asleep, but he rests and sucks and calms down. When his hour is up, and I figure out he's not going to sleep. I get Dean ready to go to the park, dressing him in some play clothes no one minds him getting dirty in. I strap him into the large, Dean-sized stroller, and head to the park. "How you doing down there, Dean?" I ask him, when we get away from the house. The fresh air feels good and I know I made the right decision to take him out.

"Okay, Daddy."

 _Okay, Daddy?_ I have to look to make sure Dean's still there. He is, and he does look surprisingly, 'OK'. Huh. I hand him a bottle of homemade juice anyway. He sucks on it happily, despite the weariness I can see in his whole being.

As we're approaching the park, he's rubbing his eyes. It's a sign he's tired, but like earlier, I have no hope he'll nod off, so I resign myself to a cranky Dean for our park visit. When we arrive, the park is eerily quiet. The clouds roll in, dark and ominous, the sky is a hazy purple. I move to protect Dean, but Dean doesn't need my protection at the moment.

He's dropped the bottle I'd given him, and already out of his stroller, looking made of stone with the way he's standing. He's not little Dean anymore, he's my big brother and the hunter Dad created—something has set him off. "Dean?"

Dean nocks his head toward the trees, and black eyes are staring at us from behind them. 

Demons.

I dive for the diaper bag where I've always got some stuff stashed, and just hope there's a demon blade. I haven't been great at stocking the bag, since we've been pretty problem free since the angels. Fuck. There are knives, in here, but not a fucking Demon knife; I grab one anyway. Dean doesn't seem to care. Dean's heading over to them. "Dean! Dean!" He ignores me and keeps walking.

"Fuck!" I run after him, the demons saunter out in no hurry.

"Hello, boys," says the one in the black blazer. He seems like an arrogant asshole and talks like one too.

"What do you want?"

"I want what your little angel boy stole from me!"

What my…? Is he talking about Cas? Angel Boy? He either doesn't know Cas very well, or is just a condescending dickhead. "What did he steal?"

"He knows, and until we get it back, we're taking that little Omega from you. Get him boys."

The two try to take Dean, but Dean's ready for them, he runs into one and keeps barreling through smashing one into the others. Dean may be an Omega, and therefore smaller than us alphas, but he's strong and good at using momentum to help him in a fight.

The snarky demon does nothing to assist his henchmen, only seems entertained by what Dean can do, which is kick the shit out of the pair—he is amazing to watch. I jump into action and help Dean, who's getting some punches thrown at him. Fuck, his poor face.

I get kicked in the stomach, but I fight hard, and get some knocks in on my own. But they're stronger than us, and without the ability to kill them, or the ability to run, we're hooped.

I think I'm imagining it at first; the flap of wings, but I'm not and I don't think I've ever been so happy to hear that sound. Angels appear. I see Gabe, and Gadreel, who each appear behind a demon and end them in one swift stab with a demon blade. Balthazar apprehends the snarky demon, who appears to be attempting to flee, but can't.

"I want my staff back, Michael," he says.

I turn to see Michael has appeared too; he's managing to nonchalantly approach, while clearly enraged. "It's my staff, Crowley," Michael tells him. "Kill him."

Crowley disappears, somehow leaving his air of cockiness behind him. "How was he able to do that?" Michael asks.

"I don't know," Balthazar says.

"Was he not supposed to be able to?" I ask.

"Never mind that," Michael says to me, "a better question is, what are you doing hunting with Dean?"

"I wasn't hunting with Dean. We came to the park and were accosted by demons."

"That's not what it looks like to me," Michael says. He's staring at Dean who's still in full hunter mode.

"I don't care what it looks like to you."

"You will care. There will be consequences for this, Sam."

Since he doesn't believe me anyway, I give him my best angry stare down and shut the hell up. I'll have to wait for Cas to talk sense into him—if that's even possible. "I will send notice to Castiel for him to meet us at the Manor. You two will come with us."


End file.
